


blood will have blood

by authormin



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate universe - Mafia, Blood and Gore, Character Death, Crimes & Criminals, Drinking, Established Relationship, Gang Violence, Graphic Description, Heavy Angst, Hostage Situations, Hurt/Comfort, Love Triangles, Mafia AU, Mildly Dubious Consent, Not a Love Story, Past Relationship(s), Plot Twists, Smoking, Smut, Violence, but nothing tooo bad, but yeah it is, like someone stop me this is so angsty, mob boss! Jeonghan, so much drama, which is surprising bc when do i ever?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2020-01-12 08:29:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 28,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18442817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/authormin/pseuds/authormin
Summary: Jisoo can’t remember.Jisoo can’t remember how he got sucked into this life; can’t remember who or what he was before his life became a part of Jeonghan’s property. He could have been a teacher, a doctor, or an office worker or florist (it’s not a very high possibility but looking at roses always makes him smile). He might have a girlfriend or a boyfriend or none or maybe he was married. It doesn’t matter anyways, since he can’t remember.It’s okay, though, since Jeonghan’s going to step down after one more assignment, and that means Jisoo gets to leave. But Jeonghan’s last mission goes to absolute shit and Jisoo’s turned into something he doesn’t want be. Not by a long shot.Jisoo can’t remember how he got in.So there’s no way for him to get out.





	1. familia ante omnia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> family over all

Jisoo can’t  _ breathe _ . 

 

He’s near suffocation and he feels his lungs scream and squeeze against his ribcage until he can’t claw at the hands wrapped around his neck anymore. He’s desperate for some form of relief but his legs are starting to wobble and it’s hard to focus on anything. 

 

“Eight men, Jisoo. Why are  _ eight _ of my men dead? Over one mission?”

 

Jeonghan has him slammed against the wall, pressing, pressing,  _ pressing _ into the soft flesh of Jisoo’s throat. He pushes upwards and forces his fingers into the delicate area along the sides. It forces Jisoo to go on his tippy-toes in order to avoid blacking out completely. 

 

It’s funny; Jeonghan wants an answer and Jisoo can’t exactly  _ talk _ right now. 

 

He claws weakly at Jeonghan’s wrist, trying to pull away but there’s nowhere to go - Jeonghan’s knee is pressed between his legs, pushing him higher up against the wall until he’s nearly completely supported by Jeonghan himself. 

 

“I want answers, Jisoo. I told you to send your men on a reconnaissance mission. Seungcheol checked this shit out beforehand Jisoo, there’s no reason they would be dead!” 

 

Jeonghan is absolutely  _ terrifying  _ up close, the scent of cigarette ashes and Versace cologne threading its way up Jisoo’s nose. His eyes bore into Jisoo’s with such viciousness that Jisoo closes his own in fear that he’s going to be swallowed whole. 

 

Everything about him is hazy and intoxicating and Jisoo cannot fucking  _ breathe _ . 

 

“I-” Jisoo shuts his eyes and tries to suck in a little bit of air, a little bit of respite. Nothing’s working, though. He feels like someone’s pressing a wall up against his lung; forcing himself to slow down his desperate panting before he explodes. His eyes are watering and everything’s turning blurry. Jeonghan’s just a mess of disconnected pieces that he can’t put together; features that melt along the edges when they’re  _ just _ about to meet. 

 

Jeonghan suddenly throws him onto the floor and Jisoo thanks the lords above that it’s carpeted. He hits the white fabric with a thump and he needs to breathe, he needs to get  _ something _ into his system but it hurts like all fucking  _ hell _ to try; he needs  _ oxygen _ . 

 

It sounds like he’s trying to eat gravel. The coughs rack through Jisoo’s lungs and it vibrates through his neck and it hurts, it  _ hurts _ , he still can’t fucking  _ breathe _ and Jeonghan does nothing but light a cigarette and he takes a drag out of it and Jisoo can’t stop the tears from slipping through his eyes. He feels them stick to his lashes and they entangle themselves within each other. Jeonghan looks down on him with bored eyes. He doesn’t so much as hesitate as Jisoo tries to hold his neck still so he doesn’t jerk it around as his body convulses. 

 

“I’m sorry, Jeon-” Jisoo lets out a quiet whine. It hurts so fucking  _ much _ . 

 

Jeonghan leaves the room. 

 

Jisoo’s world turns black. 

 

-

-

 

It’s been a week since Jeonghan’s nearly  _ killed _ him and the bruises haven’t faded. It’s been seven days and the outlines of Jeonghan’s fingers are still clear on his skin, purple-ish yellow and green fading in an agonizingly slow pace. How it still feels like Jeonghan did it mere seconds ago honestly amazes Jisoo more than it makes him angry. 

 

“Jisoo, come with me.” Seungcheol refuses to meet his eyes and Jisoo looks up. He can already feel the sympathy and regret rolling off of Seungcheol in waves. 

“Hey, I’m fine, Seungcheol-”

 

“I’m in charge of you. Jeonghan shouldn’t have done that.” Seungcheol’s eyelashes twitch a little bit. “I’m sorry.” His fingers don’t fully close into fists, but they hang tightly off of his arms and make his shoulders look bigger than they are. 

 

Jisoo tugs at his collar and his throat screams in protest. Even his own fingers skimming over the top of the bruises feels like someone’s karate-chopping down his neck. “It’s fine, Seungcheol. It’s not your job to take care of me.”

 

“But it  _ is _ . I just-” Seungcheol lets out an exasperated sigh and runs a hand roughly through his hair. “I’m sorry. I should have been there. It wasn’t even your report to give him; it was mine, God, Jisoo. I should have seen it coming. I’m-” Seungcheol turns around and starts walking. His head hangs down a bit. Seungcheol doesn’t finish his sentence.

 

The back of Seungcheol’s pale neck is exposed. Jisoo tries to imagine Jeonghan pushing Seungcheol down in a chokehold. It’s not something that  _ couldn’t _ happen, it’s just that Jeonghan wouldn’t bother. It’s just him. It’s just Jisoo. Jisoo’s about to touch his bruises again but then falters and lets his hands drop. 

 

It’s just him. 

 

Jisoo shakes his head gently even though Seungcheol can’t see. “Let’s just hurry up. What do you need me for?”

 

“Three more.” Seungcheol looks at his watch and jerks his head a bit towards the hall to motion that they should start walking. Jisoo speeds up his pace to catch up. “But we’ve managed to find a link between all of them.”

 

“So Jeonghan’s holding a meeting?”

 

“Yeah. Try to stay behind me. In the corner if you can.”

 

“Okay.”

 

-

-

 

“All of them were habitual drug users.” Seungcheol clicks his little laser pointer thing and zooms in into specific body parts of the dead soldiers. It doesn’t show anything but a little square of skin and the needle scars but still; it came from a dead person’s body and Seungcheol took _ pictures _ of them and had to make a  _ presentation _ out of them. Jisoo feels queasy; there’s a reason why he doesn’t actually work as a field agent. “Every single man who died, or was allegedly killed, regularly bought parts of our supplies. All eleven of them had heroin in their systems when we ran the autopsies.”

 

Chairman Park raises his hand like a kid in class eager to learn more instead of someone learning about the deaths of off-the-grid mafia agents. “So are you saying they’re overdosing themselves on purpose?” The wrinkles on his paper-thin skin make it hard to read what he’s feeling, though. Jisoo leans more towards intrigue than excitement. 

 

Seungcheol clicks something on the pointer and the slide on the wall changes into the next one. “These men were parts of smaller crews within our groups, and other members claimed that they were arrogant, they were cocky; they were the type of gang worker that wanted to do nothing  _ but _ prove that they were in a gang. So yes, that could be a possibility, but a very low one. They had no reason to kill themselves when they were riding out the high of working in an environment like this.” Jisoo holds back a smile. It’s an underhanded compliment towards Jeonghan, and his face tells him that yeah, he gets it, but he doesn’t necessarily  _ disagree _ .

 

Jeonghan taps his fingers against the wood of the table and everyone sitting around it flinches. Jisoo can’t help but shudder a bit from where he’s standing in the corner next to Seungcheol.

 

Everything about his presence, his aura, his very  _ soul _ , reeks of power and it’s almost nauseating. 

 

“So what’re you telling us, Seungcheol? That a bunch of fucking druggies got carried away one night? What does that have to do with anything?”

 

Seungcheol clears his throat. “I thought it might have been something in the supply. But Soonyoung ran a check and it was clean; besides, Demian would never sell us faulty units. They know we’re stronger and that we outnumber them nearly sixty to one.”

 

“Could it be,” Jeonghan’s eyes flick upwards with a murderous glint. Someone tugs at his tie. “An inside job?”

 

Seungcheol looks down like he’s been caught with his pants down. Jisoo can read his face; he’s embarrassed because he doesn’t have an answer. “It’s a possibility. One that I’m looking into right now.” 

 

Jeonghan reaches into his coat pocket and for a moment, Jisoo freezes and thinks it’s a gun but he pulls out a black lighter and a silver cigarette case. Pulling one of them out, he lights it and quickly placed it in between his lips, pulling in a breath without his fingers. The smoke that leaves his lips leave a little trail all the way up to the ceiling like a slithering grey snake. 

 

“Kill them all.”

 

Jisoo steps forward a bit, suddenly concerned. It’s one thing to get rid of a traitor, but to kill an entire unit? Over  _ fifty _ me? There’s a fine line between discipline and just plain slaughter; this seems to cross the line. “Jeonghan, that’s not a rational d-”

 

“Shut the  _ fuck _ up, Jisoo.” Jeonghan takes another drag. “Kill them all, Seungcheol. Every last member of that crew. See to it.”

 

“Sir, Jisoo is right. It’s not reasonable to off an entire  _ team _ -”

 

“Well, you know what, Mr. Park? If you finish that sentence, I’m going to kill  _ you _ first. Very slowly. And painfully. I’ll stretch it out for  _ days _ , Mr. Park. How does that sound?” Jeonghan raises a brow and stares down the poor man whilst waving his cigarette around like it’s a wand or something. His theatrics have never been better. He smiles like he’s thinking of getting ice-cream later. “Not good, right? So don’t  _ question _ me ever again.  _ Especially  _ not in front of all of these people. Because you work for me. Got it?”

 

Chairman Park closes his mouth. “Yes, sir.”

 

Jeonghan stands up and the cigarette dangles out of his mouth like a lollipop stick. “Alright. I guess we’re done here.”

 

-

-

 

“I’m here, Jeonghan. Do you need me to do something?”

 

Jisoo’s heart thuds as the words leave his mouth. He already knows what’s coming; he’s already anticipating everything before it happens. His blood rushes to his head and he can’t see straight; his body already reacts by sending goosebumps shooting down his arms. 

 

Jeonghan drops down onto the couch and leans back, splaying out his thighs and motioning for Jisoo to straddle him. Jisoo flushes and his footsteps stagger a bit as he makes his way to the couch. 

 

“Hurry up and get naked, Jisoo.” Jeonghan pulls at his shirt and pops the two buttons off right away and helps Jisoo out of his own. He struggles to take the buttons off and Jeonghan impatiently yanks at the shirt. 

 

“S-sorry, I just-” Jisoo fiddles with his last shirt button. “I’m sorry.”

 

Jeonghan tilts his head back and pushes the shirt off of Jisoo at the same time. He smells like wine and ash.

 

It makes him fuzzy; makes Jisoo dizzy, and intoxicated, and it’s absolutely  _ suffocating _ but when Jeonghan starts moving his hands down his back everything feels like it’s absolutely  _ perfect _ , like nothing’s going to go wrong and that he doesn’t have be embarrassed. He’s long learned that Jeonghan hates when people get embarrassed over themselves in front of him. It’s just better to act like you don’t care. (But honestly, it’s been six years at this point and Jisoo doesn’t really have the audacity to get shy anymore, after the things he’s let Jeonghan do to him.)

 

Jeonghan moves his hands along the divots of Jisoo’s ribs and noses at his collarbones at the same time. Jisoo lets out a whine and reflexively tries to grind hiself down onto Jeonghan and Jeonghan smiles into his skin. 

 

“You’re cleaned?” 

 

Jisoo closes his eyes as hard as he can and lets out a shallow breath. “Yes.”

 

Jeonghan tells Jisoo to open his eyes and so he does. “Why?” Jeonghan gives him a lazy smile. His eyes are hard, though, and they drip of poison and slight annoyance. “Did you do something with someone else recently?”

 

“N-no, Jeonghan, I wouldn’t do that.” Jisoo lets out another small mewl when Jeonghan skirts his hand into the dip of his back and leaves traces of shapes on his skin.

 

“It’s not like I care, Jisoo.” Jeonghan lets out a small breath and laves the skin of Jisoo’s exposed collarbone, biting into it softly. “We’re not together.”

 

Jisoo’s stomach lurches and reality hits him for a little bit; a tiny flash of a second. 

 

But it’s not like he likes Jeonghan in  _ that _ kind of way. 

 

Except when he touches Jisoo; that’s when things happen and it’s like stars are bursting under his skin and sugar melting on his tongue and moonlight coming in between the clouds of his life. Jeonghan’s like his version of a drug; not the best comparison but every once in a while he just wants to break down under Jeonghan’s touch and just let himself be  _ him _ . The one that no one else is going to see. 

 

Jisoo’s being lowered onto the couch and Jeonghan’s strangely gentle with it. No rough shoving, no borderline-manhandling, no vicious shoves and curses and names.

 

He feels like he needs to ask why. 

 

“How come you’re not hurting me?” Jisoo’s voice is embarrassingly breathy and he writhes when Jeonghan traces the edge of his waist with his fingers.

 

Jeonghan freezes a little bit. “What?” His thumbs rest on the sides of Jisoo’s hips. 

 

Jisoo closes his eyes and shakes his head gently. His neck is still hurting. “N-nothing, ignore it.”

 

“Are you talking about this?” Jeonghan pushes a soft finger into the side of his throat, just enough to send a little tingle of pain down his body but not hard enough to actually  _ hurt _ . 

 

“No, it’s just that usually you like to do this a bit rougher.”

 

Jeonghan let’s out an unexpected laugh. Jisoo listens in amazement. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s heard it, if he’s ever heard it at all. “Do you  _ like _ that? Do you  _ want  _ me to do that?” Jeonghan leans off of Jisoo’s body like he’s going to get something.

 

Jisoo grabs onto Jeonghan’s shirt. “No, please, Jeonghan, I like it like this, I ju-”

 

Jeonghan shucks off Jisoo’s pants and underwear in one swift tug and Jisoo shudders violently. The zipper catches Jisoo on the leg and leaves a red mark. Jisoo’s leg jerks up and Jeonghan looks at it, then flicks his eyes upwards a bit. Jisoo feels himself grow hot; embarrassed that he’s already half-hard from a couple of touches and a handful of smokey looks. 

 

“I’m doing it because I need a break, Jisoo.” Jeonghan smile and watches as Jisoo’s cock twitches. Jisoo lets out an involuntary whine and Jeonghan lets his fingertips rest along the curve of his hip bone; where his pelvis is  _ this _ close to his cock. “Sometimes, people just need to be normal. They need to calm down. Even me.”

 

The rest of the day passes by in a haze; all hot fingers and and desperate bodies and Jeonghan inside of Jisoo until he can’t fucking  _ think _ about anything but how much he likes it, how much he’s into this, too much for his own good. The red couch cushions mold themselves into the shapes of their bodies and absorbs the secrets they hear into their fabric; letting Jisoo scream and beg as much as he wants to. 

 

He’s enjoying himself too much. 

 

Too much. 

 

Every time that Jeonghan whispers his name or pulls at his hair a bit or kisses him languidly or grips Jisoo’s hips and drives himself deeper; Jisoo wants it more. 

 

He wants Jeonghan to himself. 

 

Except that kind of stuff isn’t possible for people like them and so he opts for crying out Jeonghan’s name as much as he can before he can’t again.

 

Jisoo thinks that there must be something wrong with him. 

 

He’s in love with a psychopath. 

 

But then Jeonghan slips a finger into Jisoo’s mouth and starts leaving open kisses over the mostly-faded bruises on his neck and it just turns into something  _ right _ . 

 

His hands taste of whiskey and the edge of a burned-out cigarette mixed together in some kind of exhilarating concoction. 

 

Jisoo wants to drown himself in it. 

 

-

-

 

“Seungcheol’s going out on a reconnaissance mission.” 

 

Jisoo draws his brows together in confusion. “But he’s your secretary; that’s not his job.” There are literally  _ dozens _ of men just waiting to do something under Jeonghan’s command and he lets his right-hand man do it? 

 

It doesn’t add up. Something’s wrong.

 

Jeonghan pours bourbon into a glass and he doesn’t stop until it nearly spills over the edge. Jeonghan doesn’t drink it, though. He just stares for a bit before answering. “He said he knew what he was doing.” Jeonghan groans and without warning, pushes the glass off of his desk. It spills into the carpet, dyeing the fabric like honey. Jisoo frowns. The amount of times he’s had the change the carpet in the last two weeks is ridiculous. (And Jisoo was responsible for, like, half of those.) “Who am I to stop one of my best men from doing what he thinks is going to help, right?”

 

Jisoo swallows. His throat’s dry and he feels uneasy all of a sudden, like something’s not quite right and Jisoo doesn’t know what it is. 

 

“When’s he coming back?”

 

Jeonghan looks up and gives Jisoo a weary smile. “I don’t know. He just left a couple of hours ago and asked me to tell you.”

 

“Jeonghan, you can’t just let one of your best workers to leave like this without explanation! He might get hurt, I mean, Seungcheol’s not even trained in anything more than basic self-defense!” 

 

Jisoo can’t lose Seungcheol. He can’t lose his anchor; the only thinking keeping him here without being harmed. 

 

The only person here keeping him  _ sane _ . 

 

“Do you really care about him  _ that _ much, Jisoo? He’ll be fine.” Jeonghan looks annoyed and bored and kind of  _ drunk _ or at least out of the loop and it makes Jisoo all the more angrier at him.

 

“Yes, I do care  _ that _ much. He’s my  _ boss _ , if you haven’t forgotten. And how can you ensure that, did he go with someone?”

 

Jeonghan spins around on his chair and faces the wall behind him. He lets out a grand sigh, as if he just  _ can’t be bothered _ . “Get out, Jisoo. I don’t care.”

 

“Jeonghan, come  _ on _ , this is Seungcheol we’re talking about, not some random so-”

 

“If you love him  _ that _ much, just go run off with him!” Jeonghan shouts, sending an echo through the room. His voice bounces off the walls and scatters through the corners. “I don’t care! I don’t  _ care _ , Jisoo, if he gets hurt. Do you know  _ why _ ?”

 

Jisoo grits his teeth. He hates when Jeonghan blames his “upbringing” on his attitude problems. He can already hear the speech coming, about what it’s like to grow up in a loveless family that only knows how to teach death and pain and competition. 

 

How is that different than anyone else who’s been sucked into Jeonghan’s “empire?” No one’s here because they  _ genuinely _ want to be in a mafia. (Except a handful of the weird ones.) Everybody’s here because they had shitty lives; dead parents leading to orphanage, running away from home, people who just want to be protected; no one’s here because they  _ love _ bowing down to Jeonghan. 

 

What sets him apart? The fact that  _ he’s _ the one with power? 

 

If he didn’t have it, he wouldn’t be any better or worse than the hundreds and hundreds of workers Jeonghan has. 

 

What makes him so  _ fucking _ special?

 

“Why, Jeonghan.” Jisoo clenches his fists and gets ready to be thrown around for a bit. “Why? Why don’t you care?”  _ You said you wanted to be normal three days ago. You said that to me. Except I’m the fucking dumbass for thinking that it could last for more than a sex session, right? Because you’d rather shoot yourself in the head than to submit and be vulnerable once in a fucking while.  _

 

_ Because that’s who you are.  _ The voice in Jisoo’s head is cynical and mocking. 

 

Jeonghan walks to the front of the desk and steps on the dropped glass. It breaks quietly under his foot. Leaning down, he picks up a small piece and meets Jisoo’s eyes. 

 

Jisoo breathes in a little bit, thinking that it’s going to end up lodged in his skin somewhere, that Jeonghan’s going to  _ hurt _ him for real this time, to make everything else he’s ever done to Jisoo look like child’s play. He’s left Jisoo unconscious before, left him bruised, left him sore, but he’s never  _ cut  _ him, pressed something into his skin hard or hot enough to scar. He gets ready for the sting that follows a slash by gritting his teeth together and locking his jaw up.  

 

But Jeonghan doesn’t do that. 

 

Instead, he places in the center of his palm and makes a fist. 

 

Jisoo can feel his pupils dilate. 

 

He’s going to throw up. 

 

Jeonghan starts to squeeze, compressing until there’s enough blood coming out of his closed hands to completely stain his cuff. His knuckles are white and streaked in lines of dark red. The blood spills into the carpet on top of the spilt bourbon and it creates a disgusting and nauseating smell; alcohol and metal and the faint smell of cigarettes coming from Jeonghan and Jisoo holds down a gag. 

 

“Because I don’t, Jisoo.” Jeonghan opens his hand and the bloodied shard of crystal falls onto the wet carpet. “I just  _ don’t _ . Because that’s what it means to run a fucking mafia. How the  _ fuck _ could I be successful if I care? If I tried to watch over every single person in this community? I wouldn’t be able to get us anywhere. I’d have been dead since the day I was born, Jisoo.” Jeonghan looks at him with a sneer; all sharp teeth and ferocious eyes, boring into Jisoo’s heart and picking at it with a knife. He runs his bloodied hand down the back of his head and his ponytail spills over his shoulders in silver waves. He turns around and Jisoo sees the crimson threaded and laced through the silver. 

 

He’s reminded very harshly of that  _ why _ . 

 

Because Jeonghan is Jeonghan. 

 

No one else could do what he does. He’s special. 

 

Why?

 

Because. 

 

He’s Jeonghan. 

 

And that’s all there is to it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HII!! IVE BEEN meaning to update and write this for like a really really really long time !! and then !! i finally did !! please expect it to be a lot more graphic and detailed than any of my other fics and also don't forget thatt here are no "smut" warnings in the future; i wont get graphic since i dont really like writing out whole scenes but itll definitely be obvious. also if something bothers you, just please leave the fic; it's a mafia au and its hard to keep it that way unless i write about some mafia things. (which is not the same as a spy au just keep that in mind if missions and that kind of stuff are more your things)
> 
> ill try to update every other friday!!
> 
> thank you for reading !!


	2. dulce periculum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> danger is sweet

“Jisoo, that fucking  _ hurts _ .”

 

“No  _ shit _ , Seungcheol!”

 

“Oh my fucking  _ God, Jisoo, _ stop  _ pushing _ !”

 

“Fine!” Jisoo throws down the bloody rag in his hand. “But if you die because of gangrene or something, the only person you can blame is-”

 

Seungcheol flaps his unharmed hand in the air with a pained face. He sucks in a deep breath and blinks rapidly, like he’s trying to force the tears back into his eyes. “Okay, okay, just, -” Seungcheol groans and motions at the cut. “Just  _ fix it _ .”

 

Jisoo glares one last time at Seungcheol and tries to apply as much pressure as he can above the cut, but the slash on Seungcheol’s arm is pretty deep. It spans across his whole entire bicep and although the wound is partially closed due to all the clotting, it’s too dirty to be left alone. Jisoo sighs as he pushes apart the skin so he can continue to wash out the dirt and soot with a stinging mixture of saline and rubbing alcohol. 

 

“Is that it?”

 

Seungcheol looks at Jisoo and smiles. He lifts up his shirt and at first, Jisoo thinks it’s a joke and he scoffs but there are bruises and scratches and smaller cuts that line his stomach and ribs. 

 

“No?”

 

Jisoo’s hand starts to shake. He doesn’t know if he wants to throw up or land another punch onto Seungcheol’s somehow-untouched face. 

 

“What did you  _ do _ , Seungcheol?”

 

-

-

 

Seungcheol drops himself onto Jisoo’s bed, wearing nothing but white linen pants. A towel is thrown lazily around his shoulders but they slip off when he hits the mattress. His hair splatters water all over the place and the muscles on his abdomen ripple outwards. Jisoo frowns. 

 

“You’re getting my bed all wet. And your bandage is red again. Sit up so I can change it.”

 

Seungcheol sits up and pulls Jisoo into his lap. “I don’t wanna.”

 

Seungcheol starts nosing at Jisoo’s neck and pulls down the collar of his pajama shirt with his teeth. 

 

Jisoo turns away. “Seungcheol, you’re hurt.” Jisoo looks down at Seungcheol’s abdomen. Instead of placing an individual bandaid on each cut, Jisoo had just wrapped up his whole torso with a long bandage because it would have been neater. (It also kind of makes Jisoo laugh. The bandages force Seungcheol’s chest muscles up a tiny little bit higher so it looks like he’s wearing a corset. Also, he kind of looks like he has boobs.)

Seungcheol shakes his head and gently swipes tongue over the dip in between Jisoo’s collarbones and presses a large hand into Jisoo’s side. He teases over the hem and slides warm fingers into Jisoo’s cold skin, to which Jisoo can’t  _ not _ react to. It sends a tremor down his spine and Jisoo lets out a sharp gasp. 

 

“Please, Jisoo.”

 

Jisoo bites his cheek and looks at Seungcheol. He looks worn out, but there’s pink dusted over his cheeks and his lips are slick with saliva and his eyes are dark and cloudy. He smells like the opposite of Jeonghan’s clashing scents of ashes and flames and alcohol and pain. 

 

Seungcheol smells like clean cloth and something cool; like the rain and rocks mixed into the sea. 

 

Jisoo sighs a little bit and gives in. He presses a small kiss into Seungcheol’s lips and Seungcheol smiles into it, leaning back down again so Jisoo’s on top, straddling his hips with his thin legs. 

 

“Take off your shirt.”

 

Jisoo’s fingers tremble as he reaches over his head and pulls it off his head. Seungcheol lets out a breath and traces the thin line from the center of Jisoo’s throat to the middle of his abdomen, right above where his pants are. He drags his calloused index finger all the way down like he’s a fragile china doll and Jisoo drops his head back and whines a little bit. It claws its way out of his throat like an animal. 

 

Seungcheol lets out a small laugh. He pulls Jisoo back down and kisses Jisoo all over. 

 

Jisoo doesn’t mind. 

 

Because the only other person Jisoo does this with is Jeonghan and he’s just so  _ different _ , all rough and menacing and Jisoo jumps from emotion to emotion like he’s on a trampoline and it’s somehow addicting; Seungcheol is slow and pampers him and moves slowly and he  _ cares _ and lets him  _ feel _ everything and it feels comfortable. 

 

Jisoo doesn’t mind. 

Because the person Jisoo’s thinking of isn’t ever going to give him this. 

 

Because the person Seungcheol’s thinking of is no longer here. 

 

Jisoo doesn’t mind. 

  
  


-

-

 

“You look tired as all  _ shit _ .”

 

“Thank you, Jeonghan.” Jisoo looks up from where he’s flipping through the book on the library shelf. “I appreciate it.” He turns around to hit his nose onto Jeonghan’s cheek. Jisoo stumbles backwards and Jeonghan just leans in closer with a tilted smirk. 

 

Jisoo would clutch his heart and drop dead if he could. 

 

“You’re being snarky.” Jeonghan smiles and takes a step back. He walks over to his desk and throws himself onto his chair. “When’s Seungcheol coming in?”

 

Jisoo looks at his watch. “He’s supposed to stay in the infirmary with Jun until three today. But he told me that he’d try to get out earlier. Should I call him down now?”

 

Jeonghan flaps his hand in the air and opens up a bottle of scotch with his free one. “Let him rest. I heard he’s pretty banged up.”

 

Jisoo nods. “Yeah. I don’t know what happened. Didn’t you say it just a simple conference?”

 

Jeonghan had been so calm about sending Seungcheol in without a team. 

 

Jisoo looks down at his hands. He doesn’t know what Jeonghan’s thinking. Under everything, he must still be stressed about losing his right-hand man. Jisoo’s eyes flicker back up again to see Jeonghan’s reaction. 

 

Jeonghan shrugs nonchalantly and pours himself a glass of scotch. The ice cube clinks around the glass and Jisoo frowns. He needs to stop drinking out of boredom and find a better better hobby to do. (Namely, him.) “You know, in our line of work, you can never guarantee that kind of stuff.” His eyes look kind of glassy and he clears his throat after he downs his drink. 

 

Jeonghan’s not cursing. 

 

Jisoo bites his lip.

That’s not his first drink. 

 

Jisoo wants to snatch the glass away form his hands but what’s that going to earn him besides a quick punch to the face?

 

He goes back to organzinzgin the books on the shelf. The leather-bound covers feel cold under his skin and the clock ticks away. 

 

Nothing else is heard besides Jeonghan’s occasional sighing and the crystal tapping against the wooden desk. 

 

-

-

 

“Seungcheol. How are you?” 

 

Jeonghan sets his glass down. He leans back like he’s finally had enough shots of whatever he’s been drinking now, but Jisoo knows that he’s just going to go back to the bottle once everyone leaves. 

 

“Good. I didn’t hurt myself too bad. Just a couple of stitches and bruises.”

 

Jisoo’s mouth works faster than his brain. “A couple? Seungcheol, your whole  _ torso _ is  _ covered _ in cuts! You should seriously be resting more, you know.”

 

Jeonghan smiles. “How do you know that, Jisoo? I didn’t see you go to the infirmary today.”

 

Jisoo flushes and Seungcheol lets out an awkward laugh. 

 

“Oh, I stopped by his room before I went to Jun.”

 

_ Clear it up a bit more than that, Seungcheol. That sounds weird _ .

 

But he doesn’t so Jisoo puts his hand up. “I just took care of his cuts, that’s all.”

 

Jeonghan raises his brow. “Did I ask? Seungcheol already answered.”

 

Jisoo looks down and nods. Right. Seungcheol gives Jisoo a pat on the shoulder and settles into his chair. “I’ll give you the rundown now.”

 

“Go ahead.”

 

“Well, the biggest thing that I need to tell you before I explain anything else is that Namjoon is dead.”

 

That’s a  _ great _ start. 

 

“What?” Jeonghan’s relaxed legs stiffen up and he sits up a bit straighter. 

 

“He was killed. We were ambushed, Jeonghan. No one should have known about Namjoon and I meeting but someone did and he’s dead.”

 

“Seokjin.” Jisoo looks at Jeonghan through his lashes. His brain races while he tries to absorb the fact that  _ Namjoon is dead _ . “He never lets Namjoon go to these things on his own. Is he okay?”

 

“No. Seokjin wasn’t there.” Seungcheol’s hands can’t stop fidgeting in his lap. “Which is why I think that this was a coup.”

 

Jeonghan nods slowly. “Makes sense, but it also doesn’t. Keep going.”

 

“Well, I was trying to start the conversation with Namjoon. It had only been maybe two minutes? Yeah, about two minutes before the attack happened. I only said hello. I wasn’t able to ask him anything else.”

 

“I’m guessing that you weren’t able to make sure that this wasn’t an inside job, right?”

 

“Yeah. But honestly, I think we’ve got a bigger problem than the dead men we’ve been seeing. This was an outside group, Jeonghan. Half of Demian’s been killed. We don’t know who’s going to take Namjoon’s spot. Sure, it could be Seokjin, and it probably will be. But that leads to so many other things. If Seokjin assumes the seat, then it’s clear that it was an inside job. But if it wasn’t, then the responsibility kind of falls onto us. It would mean that an outside, rogue group targeted both Demian  _ and _ us, but only Demian’s members got killed. It might make  _ us _ look bad.”

 

“Do you think any of our men could have been involved? We found dead members that weren’t killed because of a drug overdose.” Jisoo slips a piece of paper that he’s been holding onto since earlier onto Jeonghan’s desk. “Look. Heart attack.”

 

Jisoo continues to place papers onto Jeonghan’s desk. 

 

“Stopped breathing.”

 

“Stroke.”

 

Seungcheol whistles. “Do you think this could be related?”

 

Jeonghan takes the papers and grabs a file out of one of his drawers. “Look into the deaths more. Maybe we’re overthinking Demian’s situation. At the end of the day, Namjoon didn’t have a large group. It’s not worth it to make them our main focus. But see if you can look into the attack. If it was a rogue group, and they managed to take out Namjoon’s family, we need to be careful. You put a target on your back, Seungcheol. Be careful.”

 

Jisoo looks at Seungcheol, who nods at him. He takes the papers back and taps his fingers against his thigh. 

 

“For now, I want to set up a meeting with Seokjin. Can you make that happen?”

 

“I’ll get started right away.”

 

-

-

 

“Jeonghan?” Jisoo knocks on the door. “Can I come in?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Jisoo turns the knob and pushes against the thick oak door. There’s a small clatter coming from the inside and Jisoo hopes that it’s not another bottle of whiskey. 

 

Jeonghan looks up from where he’s sitting. 

 

Criss-cross-applesauce on the middle of the bed. 

 

His hair’s kind of messy and his eyes look heavy and he’s clad in nothing but black slacks. Jisoo kind of melts at the sight of his torso but Jeonghan snaps him out of his trance quickly. 

 

“Hurry up, Jisoo.” Jeonghan flops onto the bed and kicks his legs into the air. A sigh escapes his lips almost languidly and Jisoo bows curtly even though Jeonghan can’t see. “You walk so slowly.”

 

“Sorry, I-I just-”

 

“Come over here.” Jeonghan pats the space next to him. His motions are slow and languid, like a snake coiled up for sleep. 

 

Jisoo can’t breathe right now; Jeonghan never really talks gently to him for prolonged amounts of time. He doesn’t know whether to be glad that Jeonghan’s probably tipsy right now or not, but when Jeonghan cracks a single eye open to watch if he’s walking over or not, Jisoo decides that he’ll just take what he can get. 

 

The hardwood floor is cold and hard under his socked feet, but when he hits the carpet that’s in front of the foot of the bed, Jisoo sinks into the ground and half-stumbles into to the mattress. 

 

“Uh, sorry, I-” Jisoo flushes as Jeonghan sits back up and he tries to straighten himself out but Jeonghan leans over and yanks him onto the mattress. Jisoo is more or less flung on top of Jeonghan and the warmth of Jeonghan’s bare chest bleeds into his hands. 

 

“Your skin is cold.” Jeonghan adjusts Jisoo on his lap and presses a hard kiss into the side of Jisoo’s neck. The slight scent of Jeonghan’s cigarettes lingers around him like a faint cloud, mixing in with cologne in a dizzying combination that makes Jisoo grip onto the sheets under his hand a bit harder. Jeonghan tips Jisoo head up and takes a hold of Jisoo’s fingers. “Do that to me, not the cover.”

 

“What?” Jisoo wants to look away because he can feel the blush crawling up his neck and Jeonghan shrugs. 

 

“Or don’t, I’m not forcing you to.”

 

Jisoo kisses Jeonghan softly, waiting for something else to happen. When Jeonghan starts pushing up the hem of Jisoo’s shirt, Jisoo wraps his arms around Jeonghan’s neck and traces the soft skin under his fingers. 

 

Jisoo pulls away when he feels something. 

 

“Jeonghan, are you hurt?”

 

Jeonghan pulls away. “No, what’re you talkin-”

 

“Jeonghan, there’s a cut on your back, turn around-”

 

“It’s not a big deal, Jisoo, it’ll heal-”

 

“I know, but I don’t want to t-”

 

_ Oh.  _

 

“It’ll be fine.” Jeonghan rolls his shoulder back and out of Jisoo’s hands. Jisoo looks down and swallows. 

 

Scratch marks. 

 

Jisoo had forgotten that he wasn’t the only one Jeonghan slept with. (Even though that’s pretty hypocritical coming from him.)

 

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t k-know-” 

 

Jeonghan flips Jisoo over onto his stomach before Jisoo can finish. He hitches Jisoo’s hips up and Jisoo pushes a rough hand over his mouth before he lets out a strangled mewl. Jeonghan lifts up the back of Jisoo’s shirt with a quick hand; tearing the fabric off his skin in one motion. 

 

“Why, does that bother you?” Jeonghan leans over him and all but bites the soft flesh that curves from Jisoo’s neck to his collarbone and fingers wrap almost poetically around his neck. All gentle and like a whisper of words against his throat. “Because I don’t think you’re in the position to get  _ jealous _ .”

 

Jisoo’s closed eyes fly open. They’re already tearing up with how much Jeonghan’s pushing against his neck and he’s already starting to slip Jisoo’s slacks off.

 

Jeonghan slides a hand up the back of Jisoo’s thigh, pressing against the edges of his entrance with his fingertips. Jisoo arches even deeper into the mattress and his thighs are  _ burning _ with having to hold his own weight up. 

 

“I-I’m  _ n-not _ -” Jisoo pants when Jeonghan slides in a finger. Jisoo feels the wet tears slip down his cheeks. “And it was diff- _ erent _ -”

 

It’s not like Jisoo can say,  _ yeah, whenever someone else fucks me, I just kind of pretend that it’s you _ . Jeonghan would either laugh or kill him. 

 

Or maybe both. 

 

“Not really.” Jeonghan presses his thumb into a small circle right at the base of his neck and Jisoo falls forward. It feels like he’s abusing a bruise, when, Jisoo realizes that yeah, he is. 

 

Seungcheol must have left a mark. 

 

“N-no, J-Jeon-  _ ah _ -” 

 

Jeonghan slides in another finger, all sloppy and covered in ice-cold lube and Jisoo lets out a gurgle when he hits Jisoo’s soft spot _ , right there _ .

 

“It’s not like I care.”

 

_ I wish you did _ . Jisoo’s shoulders cave into each other and his elbows dig into the mattress. It burns against his skin and Jeonghan lets out a sigh. 

 

_ I wish you would get angry with me and tell me not to do it. I wish you fucked me while you told me how much you hated me doing it with someone else and I wish- _

 

Everything in Jisoo’s head melts and away and lets Jeonghan push and pull against his body until he feels like Jeonghan’s burning right up against him like the ashes of his cigarette. 

 

-

-

 

Jisoo has weekly rounds in the infirmary. 

 

It’s nothing hard; he just needs to make sure all of the nurses and doctors that are working there don’t really need anything. 

 

Well, that’s what it’s supposed to be. 

 

It’s also a front for Jeonghan to be able to keep his members in check. He can see how many people are hurt at a time, for what reason, and if anyone’s died. 

 

“Hey, Jisoo. Do you need the stats sheet for this week?”

 

Jun gives Jisoo a smile from where he’s sitting at the front desk. Jisoo walks up to it and tries to return the smile but for some reason, Jisoo can’t. 

 

“Yes, that would be great.” Jisoo looks at his clipboard. “Also, I need to check up on a member who was hurt during a training accident. Do you know what room he’s in?”

 

Jun types something into the computer in front of him and clicks around for a couple of seconds before nodding. “Yeah, Kwon Soonyoung. It says here that he has a fractured rib. Room 415. You know where it is, right?”

 

“Yes. Thank you.” Jisoo recognizes the name.

 

“No problem. Stop by when you’re done to pick up the sheets; I’ll have them printed out for you!”

 

Jisoo leaves with a single nod and lets his feet move down the hallway. The infirmary is huge; it’s about five floors tall and it houses multiple operation rooms, rehabilitation rooms, and beds for the patients. 

And it’s all underground. 

 

Hidden. 

 

Jisoo’s almost there. He wrinkles his nose when he makes a turn. He hates the smell of the place; somehow, the scent of rubbing alcohol and pain seep into every corner of the building and Jisoo  _ hates  _ it. 

 

He shakes his head. 

 

The door’s right in front of him. Jisoo knocks as a formality and waits a couple of seconds before pushing the doorknob open. It’s ice cold underneath his fingers and he steps in. 

 

Soonyoung’s room is dark except for the single lamp that’s turned on from on top of the nightstand. There’s only one bed in the middle, and Soonyoung sits up limply. He’s got IV drips hooked onto him and his eyes are open, staring blankly forward. They shift forward to look at Jisoo with bone-deep exhaustion and Jisoo finds it unsettling. 

 

How dead he looks. 

 

A shell of a human. 

 

Absent. 

 

“Soonyoung. Do you remember me?” Jisoo brings his hand up to point to himself, and Soonyoung closes his eyes. “I’m Jisoo.”

 

Soonyoung answers right away. “I remember.” His voice is a light whisper against the still air. 

 

“Soonyoung, I just have a couple of questions to ask you, is that okay? Do you think you’ll be able to?”

 

Soonyoung presses his lips together and shakes his head. “N-no, please, I just want to be-”

 

“Soonyoung, it’ll be quick, I promise.” There’s something wrong with Soonyoung. Jisoo can’t tell what. “Do you want me to get someone, Soonyoung?”

 

“No, please, don’t, I’ll answer!” Soongyount throws up a hand but immediately groans and clutches his side. “I’ll answer!”

 

He’s trying to get Jisoo to stay quiet. Jisoo narrows his eyes but he nods to try and reassure Soonyoung that he’s not going to run out. 

 

“Alright. I just need a couple of things checked, okay?”

“O-okay.”

 

“Good.” Jisoo pretends to check something off on his clipboard but he doesn’t actually do anything. Soonyoung looks relieved, though, so Jisoo keeps up the charade. “What happened? How did you fracture your rib?”

 

“S-someone kicked me during training period.”

 

“When?”

 

“Three days ago.”

 

“Who?”

 

“We were in blindfolds. I don’t know.”

 

Jisoo nods. Jeonghan’s particularly cruel method of training newcomers is to blind them and to have them fight one on one in an arena. 

 

The amount of times Jisoo’s been unconscious because of that is ridiculous, but at least those days are behind him. 

 

“Okay. Last question then, sound good?”

 

Soonyoung keeps his eyes down but the relief is clear in how his chest heaves with a sigh. “Yes.”

 

“Why are you scared?”

 

Jisoo keeps his eyes clear when Soonyoung looks up with scared eyes. 

 

“I’m not!” Soonyoung points at his side. “It’s just, that, I’m tired, and -”

 

“You know who we work for. Please don’t lie.” Jisoo’s voice is clipped and sharp. “Why are you scared, Soonyoung?”

 

Soonyoung starts to thrash. Jisoo feels a sudden breeze on his back and he swirls around but it’s just the door swinging open. Jisoo grits his teeth and slams it shut, locking the both of them into the room.

 

“Please, I didn’t do anything, I didn’t do anything! Leave me alone, I didn’t do anything!” The shrieks that leave Soonyoung’s mouth are animalistic and it sounds like he’s being burned alive. Jisoo’s skin  _ crawls _ . “Please, just get out, it hurts, it hurts!”

 

Soonyoung sobs and tries to tear at the shirt that covers him. His cries claw their way out his throat and Jisoo quickly makes his way over to Soonyoung. 

 

He pushes the button that’s connected to the heart monitor. It’s the button that flushes sedatives into the patient’s body, just in case they work themselves into a frenzy or if they try to hurt themselves. 

 

Soonyoung’s quiet within seconds. His torso grows lax and his fingers twitch by his sides.

 

Jisoo lets out a sigh before leaning over to cover Soonyoung’s sweat-covered body with the blanket that’s all tangled up at his feet. 

 

Soonyoung grabs hold of Jisoo’s wrist. 

 

“He’ll kill me.”

 

“No, he won’t.”

 

Jeonghan wouldn’t do that. 

 

“Help me.” Soonyoung’s voice is horribly rough and grisly. 

 

“I will.”

 

Jisoo won’t tell Jeonghan.

He won’t. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi ! I finally updated a chapter to this fic ! I'm really liking where this one is going and i hope that you guys do, too! it's plot-oriented so i had to plan it out a bit beforehand.. sjdf;sj
> 
> yeah ! thanks for reading and check out my other fics if you'd like !
> 
> bye !!


	3. acta non verba

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> deeds, not words

“Is the team ready? Read me the list of members again.” Jeonghan pulls up his glove more snug onto his hand and adjusts the fingers with his teeth. His eyes flash when he looks up and Jisoo snatches up the notebook on the table in front of him. 

“Yes, they are. It’s Seungcheol, who’ll be riding with us, and Wonwoo, Seokmin, and Mingyu.”

Jeonghan finishes putting his other glove on and frowns when he wiggles his fingers. They don’t really bend in the thin leather material but they prevent fingerprints from being left around and about. “Mingyu? He’s not a field agent, though.”

“You’re right, but we still need someone in the car monitoring the situation. Think of him as the tech guy.”

“He is the tech guy, Jisoo. That is literally his job.” Jeonghan lets out a single, breathy laugh and Jisoo flushes. Right. 

“S-sorry.”

“Get the cars ready. Is Seungcheol driving?”

“Yeah.” Jisoo turns around and squeezes his fists at his side in order to repress the urge to run out of there. He’s so fucking embarrassed. Every slip-up in front of Jeonghan suddenly becomes heavy shame to Jisoo. No matter how trivial. 

“Great. We’ll die before we actually might die.”

Jisoo stomps his foot lightly (not unlike a petulant child) and crosses his arms. “He’s not that bad.”

Jeonghan raises a brow and there’s a look on his face that asks him why he’s standing up for Seungcheol over what is now clearly a joke, but he says, “Don’t you remember the time he sped off the turnpike and threw us into the forest? That was fun, right? Trying to get out of there? In the dark? That was really fun.” 

“Yeah, but then, he, then-!” Jisoo can’t really defend Seungcheol. He is a shitty driver. On one mission, Jeonghan had told him to floor it and he somehow ended up ramming the back of the car into a solid cement wall. Jeonghan’s reaction wasn’t very funny, though.

“Can’t think of another argument?” Jeonghan looks over at him. 

“I’ll get ready.”

“You do that.”

Jeonghan gives him an unreadable smile and straightens out his jacket. He points to the door and motions for Jisoo to hurry up and get the cars. 

Jisoo slips out and closes the door quietly behind him, and then makes sure there’s no one else in the hallway before he presses his back flush against the wall. He covers his face with his hands and smiles into his palms. 

Jeonghan doesn’t really joke around that much. 

Jisoo wants to fly into the air right now and jump around and then-

Jisoo lands on the floor. The doorknob jams into his spine and throws him forward. Jisoo’s on the floor it doesn’t really taste too good. 

Dear God. 

His cheek’s aching. 

“Jisoo! What the hell, are you okay?” Jeonghan leans over and yanks him up. The grip is harsh and it makes Jisoo’s shoulder sting but Jisoo’s trying to recover from his stumble. Jisoo spits out some air to try and get the taste of cement off of his tongue. 

God.

Jisoo wants to burn himself on a pyre. 

“Y-yeah, sorry, I just-” Jeonghan reaches to rubs his cheek. The glove feels cold against his tingling skin. 

“You got dust on your face.”

Jisoo can feel the blush rising up on his face so he swirls around and grabs his face with his hand. “Please don’t do that.” Don’t touch me like it’s normal. Like I can just be with you. Jisoo bites his lip. 

Because that’s not really possible for me.

“Sorry. Just, go get the car ready. I’ll be out front.”

Jeonghan apologized? Jisoo’s about to make a remark about that but he’s gone before Jisoo can even blink twice. 

Jisoo runs out the hall and back to where the elevator is. He stabs the button signaling upwards as violently as he can until the doors open with a ding. Jisoo flies onto it and does the exact same thing, just, this time, it’s for floor one. 

Jisoo bites back another smile. 

-  
-

“Welcome, Jeonghan!” Seokjin bounces on his feet and sweeps the wide entrance with his arms. It’s wide and deep and high-ceieling-ed, and very, very white. The hallway is as wide as three cars and Jisoo feels like an ant. “And friends, I see.”

The smile on Seokjin’s face doesn’t match the expression he’s wearing and Jisoo holds back a shiver. Seokjin’s always been a character but to be so close to him is different. It’s more terrifying and Jisoo really doesn’t know who he thinks would make him freeze up more; Jeonghan or Seokjin. 

Seokjin glides over the floor and Jisoo follows Seungcheol and Jeonghan as quietly as he can. He’s scared that if he even breathes wrong, Seokjin’s gonna be tearing apart his body within a second.

They’re led to a set of double doors made of thick white wood and Seokjin nods his head. A bodyguard on the side presses a button on the wall and they open dramatically. Seokjin motions for them to step inside and waits by his chair. 

“Have a seat, please. I do hope you’re all comfy. I heard the ride was long?” Seokjin leans back in his armchair and crosses his legs. He rests his head loosely against his knuckles and his face is unreadable. Jeonghan does as he’s told and leaves room for Seungcheol to sit next to him as well. Since Jisoo’s technically not Jeonghan’s employee, he stands right next to the sofa and tilts his head forward so he’s staring directly at the floor. His earpiece is itchy. 

“No, no, it wasn’t bad at all. I hope you’ve been doing well, Seokjin. It must have been hard when Namjoon, well, you know.” It’s supposed to be a dig but Seokjin doesn’t flinch at all. He just smiles a bit as a response. 

“Yes, it’s been hard, but I’m dealing with it. The group will have to go on. Demian is resilient.”

Jeonghan cocks his head and nods like he’s thinking. Jisoo bites back a frown. Seokjin’s too casual about this. “I thought you loved him?”

Seokjin’s eyes narrow. “I did. That doesn’t mean I won’t get over it.”

“Seokjin, drop the act. I know you.” Jeonghan stands up. “I’ll assume that business will no longer be continuing after I say this, but that’s alright.”

“Say it.” Seokjin stands up as well. His eyes glint. “Please, do tell me. What act should I be dropping?”

Jeonghan grits his teeth. “Were you behind the attack? Were you the one planned Namjoon’s death? You just said it yourself, Seokjin! You’ll get it over it, yeah, you will, because you didn’t lo-”

Seokjin’s hand flies out to slap Jeonghan’s cheek faster than anyone can see it coming. Seungcheol bolts up but Jeonghan puts a hand up and Seungcheol says something that Jisoo can’t make out but he backs down. 

“Know your place, Jeonghan. We both know this environment doesn’t condone a normal relationship, even if there is love. Me? Personally killing Namjoon just to take over his spot?” Seokjin scoffs. “Please. Even I’d never stoop that low-” Seokjin leans in and grabs hold of Jeonghan’s collar. “- and we both know what I’ve done to get here.”

Seokjin’s eyes flicker over to Jisoo and Jisoo feels like he’s talking about him. Like he’s being targeted. 

What he’s saying isn’t wrong. 

Jeonghan’s gaze is freezing.

“And you know that the thought crossed my mind, because of the said environment.” Jeonghan’s voice is light and wispy and Jisoo wants to dash over to take care of the red blooming over his cheek. “I’ll apologize because I’m wrong.”

Seokjin’s expression goes back to its usual state of indecipherable-ness and Jisoo lets out a little breath. His eyes jump over to Jisoo and he lets out an interested hum. 

“He’s pretty.” Seokjin waves his hands and Jisoo’s suddenly being dragged forward by two walls of men. “Where’d you find him, Jeonghan?”

“Hey, let go of me, let go!” Jisoo’s kicking but there’s no point - his legs are swinging in the air like two useless pendulums. He manages to land a harsh kick on the side of one of the men but he doesn’t budge. “Jeonghan!” 

Why did that name come to him first?

“Seokjin! Let go of him; I’ll call my men on you!” Jeonghan’s eyes flash angrily and his nudges Seungcheol. “Get the phone ready.”

Seokjin turns to look at Jisoo and walks up closer. He holds up a hand to Jeonghan. “If you move, Jeonghan? I’ll kill him. Go tell your men to come in; it’s not like I care.”

Jeonghan swirls around and swings at the table in between himself and Seokjin. The glass smashes when his foot comes into contact with it and comes raining down like crystal, which it probably is. Seokjin lets out a tinkly laugh. 

It sounds just like the glass dropping onto the marble floor. 

Seokjin places a finger under Jisoo’s chin and pushes up; forcing him to look at Seokjin in the eyes. He tries to close his eyes but Seokjin tuts lightly. “Look at me.”

Jisoo does. 

He’s ethereal. 

But he’s terrifying. 

Not the kind that Jeonghan is; all suppressed power and something dark underneath an unbreakable exterior. A wall that Jisoo can’t get over. 

Not the kind that Jeonghan is; all hidden strength and slow looks and sharp words and burning touches. 

Seokjin is different. 

He’s easy to read; all of his emotions dance around in his eyes and Jisoo can see what he’s feeling when his throat clenches and by the way his hands feels on his chin. 

Seokjin is different. 

He’s out in the open; everything that he has is there, no searching, just there. He’s as powerful as he says he is and doesn’t claim much more. 

“Please let go of me.” Jisoo breathes out lightly and Seokjin gives him a small grin. “Please, I’m ju-”

“How did Jeonghan find you, I wonder?” Seokjin’s nose is this close to touching Jisoo’s and he’s trying to hold his breath but he’s feeling lightheaded. Seokjin finally moves his head back but a hand trails down his chest. Jisoo flinches and tries to turn away but his arms are locked into place. “Like a little doll. Beautiful. Is he nice to you?”

Seokjin’s voice is a murmur above the trashing of Jisoo’s heartbeat. 

Jisoo doesn’t answer. 

Seokjin looks up with a glare. 

“Answer me. Is he nice to you?” Seokjin pulls at a button on Jisoo’s shirt and a breeze hits the top of his collarbones. “Tell me, Jisoo, before I put a hole in your pretty, pretty little body.”

Jisoo nods hurriedly. “Y-yes, he is, please, j-just let g-go-” Jisoo’s arms are shaking at this point; they’re numb but he has to hold them up if he doesn’t want to be jerked around like a yo-yo. Jisoo shivers and blinks. How did he know my name?

“Really? What does he do? Tell me, please.”

Jisoo closes his eyes and his knees buckle. His shoulders are burning and he looks to the side. Seungcheol’s sitting but his leg is bouncing up and down and he’s biting down on his lip. Jeonghan hasn’t moved from his standing position but his eyes trail Jisoo’s every move. 

“He takes care of me.” Jisoo’s voice is hardly above a whisper. “He’s nice to me.”

“Good boy.” Seokjin looks up and flicks his hands. Jisoo’s dropped onto the floor. 

“Seungcheol, get the car started. I’ll be down with him in a minute.” Jeonghan stomps over the broken glass and yanks Jisoo up by the elbow. Jisoo lets out a cry but Jeonghan doesn’t relent. “Seokjin, consider yourself lucky that I’m nice enough to not blow this building up into bits.”

Seokjin tilts his head back and lets out a full laugh. “Oh, how wonderfully gracious of you! Please, please, take this is a gift.” Seokjin pulls out a letter from inside his jacket pocket. “It’s a gala. Most groups will be there; maybe you’ll find someone else to interrogate with your petty questions. Although, I can’t say I’m not excited to see what you find out. I hope to see you there!” 

Jeonghan spits. 

“Fuck off, Seokjin, while I’m still playing the nice guy.”

Seokjin frowns a bit and shoves the letter into Jeonghan’s pocket. “Really, Jeonghan. I think you want to be here. And bring this little guy. So pretty..” Seokjin grabs Jisoo’s chin with his hand and forces his head up. “It’ll be fun.”

-  
-

“Are you okay? God, Jisoo, take your shirt off, let me see your arms.” Seungcheol motions for Seokmin to start driving. “Come here.”

Jisoo’s about to agree but then he remembers that Jeonghan’s sitting next to him and he’s got marks on his back because of Seungcheol and what he did last night. 

“N-no, I’ll just go to the infirmary later. Jun’ll ice my shoulders.”

Jeonghan sighs. “No, Jisoo, let me check to see if you pulled a muscle.”

“No, please, Jeonghan, I’m tired, I’ll go d-”

“Jisoo, just do it!” Jeonghan snaps at him. “I have to take responsibility for today, Jisoo, so just take off your fucking shirt and let Seungcheol look.”Jisoo closes his eyes.

“Fine. Just, turn around, please.”

Seungcheol nods to Jeonghan and Jeonghan closes his eyes with a small breath.

Jisoo slips off his shirt and Seungcheol starts pushing and prodding at his skin. He ghosts over the mark on the back of his neck and Jisoo shudders. 

“Keep still, Jisoo.” Seungcheol gives him a wink.

-  
-

Jeonghan’s still sitting in the car when everyone else is out. Jisoo sits and waits for him to move because he feels like he shouldn’t just leave.

Jeonghan finally cracks his eyes open a minute later. “What’re you still doing here? Go make preparation for this stupid thing.” Jeonghan chucks the letter onto the floor with a groan. 

“I’m waiting for you.”

“Fine. Let’s go.” 

Jeonghan climbs out of the car and Jisoo follows, grabbing the letter before he closes the door. 

“Are you okay, Jeonghan?”

Jeonghan looks at him and slides his hands into his pockets. “Don’t bother hiding them, Jisoo. I’m not that clueless.”

Jeonghan disappears into the building and Jisoo runs over to the bushes and promptly throws up into the closest one.

-  
-

Jisoo looks at the skin on his arms. 

They’re scrubbed red. 

The burning hot bath water in the tub and Jisoo sinks even deeper into it; trying to drown out the slow thump of his heartbeat against his ribcage. 

Jisoo’s dirty. 

Jisoo claws at his shoulders again; they’re already sore from Seokjin’s men pulling at them like they were made of putty but Jisoo’s scratching and rubbing makes it worse. 

Jisoo isn’t clean enough. 

He runs his fingers past the bruises on his back and flinches with a moan when he hits a tender spot.

Fuck. 

Jisoo grits his teeth and lets the scalding water go back to burning every inch of his skin until he feels like he’s going to drown in a pool of fire. 

Jisoo’s not worthy of it. 

Of Jeonghan. 

Jeonghan. 

The name slips off his tongue and turns into bubbles that disappear against the blurry surface and Jisoo closes his stinging eyes. They melt into the porcelain that cages him into the water and Jisoo’s throat is clawing for air but he’s ignoring it. 

Jisoo says it again. 

Jeonghan. 

And again. 

Jeonghan.

And again. 

Jeonghan. 

What did you to me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hhhhh im making myself excited w writing i have like three chapters already written but I WILL BE PATIENT !! hhhh 
> 
> hope you enjoy this chapeteter!!!!


	4. auribus teneo lupum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> holding a wolf by the ears

“Do you want me to tie it?” 

Jisoo motions to the necktie that loosely hangs off of Jeonghan’s neck like a limp black snake. 

“Yes, please.” Jeonghan adjusts the cuffs on his wrists and straightens out his back. Jisoo holds his breath when he steps closer to finish off the knot. Jeonghan keeps his head up so Jisoo concentrates on not touching his exposed neck. 

He pushes the knot up with shaky fingers. “Th-there. All done.”

“Is Seungcheol ready?”

Jisoo nods. “He’s down with the cars. Do you have the invitation?”

Jeonghan pats his pocket. “Yup.”

“You better.” Jeonghan gives him a look and Jisoo returns it. He spent the better half of two hours trying to glue back all the shreds of paper that Jeonghan had ripped it into. 

Jisoo turns around and heads for the door. He should make sure everything is prepared for the gala. Seokjin likes to be extravagant (it’s almost comparable to Jeonghan’s obsession with self-indulgence) and if someone fucks up tonight after the mess they caused a week ago, Jisoo’s scared for a life. Maybe his. 

“Jisoo?”

He turns around. Jeonghan’s lighting a cigarette. “Yes, Jeonghan?”

“Be careful. Seokjin’s dangerous. And we still don’t know what he planned. Or is planning.”

“Of course.”

-  
-

The hall is literally made of gold. 

The chandeliers, the tables, even the utensils, glisten with the luminous shine of a thousand stars. The lights are dimmed and there’s a hazy glow that floats over the whole place; thick and blurry and Jisoo could just melt into the maroon carpet. 

Jeonghan looks like an angel of death entering heaven. 

His silver hair is tied back in a low but neat ponytail and every article of clothing that he’s wearing is blacker than night. His skin looks like paper against his suit and his eyes glisten like he’s hungry for something. 

Jisoo looks down at the floor. 

He wants Jeonghan to look at him like that. The way he looks at Jeonghan; that’s what he wants. 

“Jisoo, go the bar and keep a lookout. See who’s here. I’ll go mingle. Seungcheol, ask around. I’m sure word of the attack has spread. Weed out the ones who might have been behind it. Or something.” Jeonghan slips a flute of champagne off of a tray that a waiter passes by with and raises to Jisoo. Seungcheol pats Jisoo on the back and disappears off into the crowd. Jisoo sometimes wonders how Jeonghan pulls off running one of the biggest mafias in Korea when he pretty much makes up his plans as he goes along. He shakes his head to himself. 

Okay, then. The bar it is. 

Jisoo is careful to avoid the paths of women and men dressed up in diamonds and gems and who knows what else in order to get to the side of the room where the bar is. It’s made of thick mahogany and the wall behind it houses hundreds of different bottles of liquor. 

Jisoo’s almost at the bar when he almost runs into a woman who’s nearly as tall as she is. Her hair’s pinned up into a complex twist and her dress drips off of her shoulders like liquid silver. Her makeup is simple but it brings out her features in an extremely flattering way. 

She looks like the moon. 

“Oh, dear, excuse me.” A manicured hand flies to steady herself on Jisoo’s arm and he reaches over to make sure that she doesn’t topple over. “My, it’s crowded, isn’t it?” Her head tilts over to the bar, motioning for Jisoo to walk her over to the bar. 

“Oh, yes, I’m so sorry.” Jisoo waits until she’s sitting to draw his arm back. “Are you okay?”

She waves her hand flippantly and blinks. “Oh, don’t worry about it. Things happen.”

She’s nice. 

How is she a part of this kind of world? 

Jisoo’s about to excuse himself when she looks at him again. “Who are here with?”

“J -, oh, Mr. Yoon.”

Her eyes flicker brightly. The light hanging overhead makes it clear that she’s a bit older than Jisoo initially thought, but it’s a timeless kind of beauty. “Oh, you must be Jisoo. Jeonghan’s taken quite the liking to you, I hear?”

“Excuse me?”

How does everyone know his name? 

“Ah, seems like you aren’t aware? Just, be careful, Jisoo-ssi. He’s a capable man. You don’t know the half of what he could do if he cared enough to.” She pats the side of her hair as if she’s making sure there’s no invisible flyaways around her head. “You just watch yourself, sweetie. God, I need a drink.” She slides out of her seat, though, and goes back to walking into the crowd. Someone takes her hand and bows. 

She gives a wink to Jisoo before heading off. 

Jeonghan. 

His name makes him feel warm. 

“Are you with him? Jeonghan, as a date?” 

Someone else takes the lady’s place and he gives Jisoo a million dollar smile. 

Why does everyone here look like they belong in a hall of gods? 

“N-no, I’m just h-”

“Ah, ah, I’m not here to find anything out. I just needed to know if you were alone.” The man pats the seat next to him and gives him a look that says he’ll eat Jisoo whole if he doesn’t listen. “Have a drink with me, won’t you?”

“Of c-course.” Jisoo sits. 

“I’m V.”

“Ah, that’s, um, interesting.”

V. 

He leans in and Jisoo tries to lean back but he’s pulled forward by a strong hand on his wrist and V smiles. 

“Yes, don’t you think? You can’t really have people knowing your identity in this kind of place, right?”

“Oh -” Jisoo looks down at his hands. His heartbeat picks up. Is being hit on right now?

“You have pretty eyes. So big - they look like you haven’t seen much, yet.” V takes hold of Jisoo’s chin lightly and tips it up. Jisoo doesn’t know how to breathe right now - no one’s ever touched him like this but Jeonghan. “Sorry, I’m being too obvious, aren’t I?”

“I j-”

“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t do anything you didn’t want to.” V leans in close. “Is this something you don’t want?”

Why isn’t Jisoo stopping him?

His lips are soft. 

Jisoo doesn’t really want it to stop. 

“Taehyung.”

“Huh?”

“I changed my mind. You can know. My name. Taehyung.”

Jisoo lets his back get pressed up against the side of the bar and Taehyung’s mouth grows more and more insistent up against Jisoo’s. The shrub in front of them covers them up so Jisoo doesn’t really feel too embarrassed to be doing this. Hands trail up his waist and one rests against the side of his head. 

It’s weird. 

Why isn’t he embarrassed?

“Ah, I -” Jisoo pulls away so he can suck in a breath of air and Taehyung’s feline eyes stare into his. 

“Yes?”

Jisoo doesn’t really have anything to say. Taehyung catches on and smiles. He runs a thumb along Jisoo’s bottom lip and kisses the line of his jaw. 

“You having fun?”

Jisoo looks up. 

Oh, fuck me. Literally and metaphorically. 

“Jeonghan!”

Jisoo can feel the heat seep into his cheeks and he stands up in a rush, but Taehyung seems kind of proud of the fact that he was caught. He stands up and leans against the bar with a smug smile on his face. 

“Jeonghan. Long time, no see. How’re you doing these days?” Taehyung runs a hand through his hair and Jeonghan shoots him a dark smile. Like he's proud of getting caught. 

“Wonderful. It’s great to see that you’ve taken a liking to Jisoo.” Jeonghan throws him a look. “I told you to surveil. This is not surveilling. This is furthest you could get from surveilling.” 

“Oh, I did -” Jisoo stumbles over his words and shakes his head. “No, I just -”

“I’m sorry, Taehyung, but it seems that I need to steal away your hot date for the time being. Is that alright with you?” Jeonghan’s voice is heavy with sarcasm and his eyelids hang low. They’re not hungry anymore. 

Ravenous. 

But Jisoo doubts that it’s the kind of ravenous that he wants. 

Taehyung jumps over the sarcasm and lands right in the middle of flippancy. “Have fun, then. I’ll be off.”

Jeonghan lets out a scoff and smiles with annoyance as Taehyung saunters back off into the crowd. He glares at Jisoo before dragging him off. 

-  
-

“What is this room? Jeonghan, are we allowed to be in her-”

“It’s a hotel. So yes, we’re alowed to be in here.” Jeonghan curses under his breath as he tugs at his tie. “Jisoo, what the fuck were you doing? We came here to get information, not to try and sleep with the hottest guy in the room!”

Jisoo holds himself back from injecting. Technically, the hottest guy in the room is Jeonghan. No one else. “Jeonghan, calm down, I’m sorry, -”

Jeonghan takes hold of Jisoo’s jaw. “Oh, come on, Jisoo, a mark? You were at a bar.”

“M-mark?” Jisoo tries to feel for it but Jeonghan’s hand blocks him. 

Jeonghan mouths over something and it stings. “I don’t like it.” His voice is quiet in Jisoo’s ear and he freezes up. 

“Huh?”

“I can deal with you and Seungcheol, but I don’t like this.” 

Jisoo holds back a gasp and instead, swallows roughly. “You knew?”

Jeonghan slips off his tie. “I can read you like a book, Jisoo.” Jeonghan backs him up against the bed in the middle of the room. 

“Why haven’t you ever said anything?”

Jeonghan smiles too sweetly. “Who am I to dictate who you’re with? I’m with other people, anyways. That would be unfair.”

That stings. 

Jisoo feels like crying. 

“Then what about Taehyung?”

Jeonghan motions for Jisoo to look up and immediately, he slips the tie over Jisoo’s eyes. 

A blindfold. 

“I just don’t like him.”

Oh. 

“Jeonghan?”

“Yes?” Jeonghan finieses tying the knot behind Jisoo’s head. 

“W-ait, nothing. Nevermind.”

“Wanna start?”

Jisoo nods. 

Jeonghan’s fingers slide into Jisoo’s mouth and they taste like whisky and Jisoo feels hot everywhere. The clothing he’s in sticks against his back and Jisoo lets out a noise. 

-  
-

 

The night ends with Jisoo sprawled out against the desk that’s in the room with his stomach flush against the cold wood; with Jeonghan pressing him against the edge and pushing his neck up in a light grip; with Jisoo moanly quietly for more and Jeonghan teasing him by barely moving, barely touching, barely speaking. 

“Move, Jisoo, move your hips if you want to.” 

So Jisoo does, he listens and the makeshift blindfold is wet with his tears and sliding down his face. 

“Does it hurt?”

No, it doesn’t, so Jisoo lets Jeonghan press his fingertips into his throat until he can barely suck in enough air to satiate his burning lungs. 

“Do you want me to keep going?”

Yes, Jisoo does, so they move to the bed and they sink into the mattress together and Jisoo can’t tell where his body ends and Jeonghan’s starts. He wants to see Jeonghan’s eyes; he wants to see them watching him. 

So Jeonghan pulls the tie off of his head and he pushes Jisoo’s hair back like he cares, it’s so soft but then he goes back to fucking Jisoo so hard that he can’t feel his thighs anymore. 

Fuck. 

Jeonghan, I love you. 

I love you. 

Won’t you love me back? 

Jeonghan’s hands roam all over his body and they feel so hot against his sweaty skin and Jisoo knows that he’ll never say the same thing back to him so he settles for this. 

If other people is what it takes for Jeonghan to notice him, then Jisoo doesn’t care. 

I love you. 

Say it back, Jeonghan.

Before I run away. 

-  
-

“Jeonghan. Look at this report.”

Jisoo sits up against the couch and looks at Seungcheol, who’s handing Jeonghan a packet at his desk. 

“What is it?”

“Seokjin just sent this over. He called it a gift or something.”

“It’s about the attack. Why do you look so upset?” Jeonghan shuffles through the papers. 

“Well, that’s the thing. It’s only half of the report. He says he’s not handing over what he knows until he gets something. Read it. It’s about a couple of groups that Seokjin thinks that could be behind the attack. Also, he cursed you out for messing up his room.”

Jisoo bites his tongue in surprise. 

Jeonghan takes a drag out of his cigarette and then crushes it up on his ashtray. “Well, then give it to him.”

“He wants Jisoo.” Seungcheol clears his throat. “As insurance.”

“Me?” Jisoo stands up. “Me? You’re not actually serious, right, Seungcheol?”

Seungcheol doesn’t respond to him. “Jeonghan, what do you want me to do?” 

“Hey, Jeonghan, Seungcheol, please, I don’t want to do it, please, I don’t want to go, don’t send me!” The thought of being thrown over to Seokjin makes Jisoo terrified. He might as well run into the open road just for fun. “Please, I’ll do -”

“Oh, shut up, Jisoo.” Jeonghan throws the packet on this desk. “Did you really think I’d just hand over an employee for half a fucking packet of information? God; what do you take me for?”

Seungcheol nods. “Should I get a team ready?” 

“No. See if you can set up another meeting. But with you. I don’t think he wants to see me anymore.”

“Got it.”

Seungcheol leaves the room in a flurry and Jisoo sinks onto the floor. He feels sick. 

Was Seungcheol actually going to help Jeonghan do it if he agreed? 

Jeonghan walks over to him and stands over him. 

“Jisoo?”

Jisoo can’t respond. His knees feel like jelly. 

“I hope you never doubt me again. I’m a shitty person but how low do you think I am? I’m the one that brought you here. I wouldn’t just let you leave that easily.”

Jeonghan’s footsteps disappear. 

Jisoo pulls his knees into his chest. 

Where did I come from?

Jisoo panics. 

Why can’t he remember?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> angsty mafia ppl know how to get it lit amiright folks


	5. alea iacta est

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the die is cast

Jisoo’s on his way to his room when Soonyoung bumps into him. 

And then Jisoo remembers that he wanted to investigate him a bit more. 

“Hey, Soonyoung, I see you’re doing fine now. Are you headed somewhere?” Jisoo subtly moves into Soonyoung’s path to block him from walking. Soonyoung’s eyes flicker a bit lifelessly before meeting Jisoo’s. “Does anything still hurt?”

“Hmm? Ah, n-no, I just needed to go -” Soonyoung shakily points to the general direction he was walking in. “ - the barracks. I was just going to my room. And um, yeah, I’m all fixed up now. Jun took care of me really well. So, excuse m-”

“Ah, well. That means you don’t have to be anywhere, right? Why don’t we stop by my room first, Soonyoung?”

Soonyoung swallows and his presses his fingers into his palms. They turn white and Jisoo continues to look at Soonyoung until he wilts. “Uh, well, sure, okay.”

Jisoo gently turns Soonyoung around by the shoulders and Soonyoung stumbles a bit. Jisoo is careful to avoid his waist but he doesn’t let go of Soonyoung. 

He might run. 

 

-  
-

“So, Soonyoung, do you want some coffee? Or maybe tea would be better for you?”

“Um, yeah, tea would be fine.” Soonyoung fidgets on his chair like he can’t wait to bust out of there the first chance he gets. 

Jisoo sets the water on the stove and takes out a tea bag and places it in a cup. He goes over to Soonyoung once he’s done. 

“So, Soonyoung. I’ve just noticed that you weren’t looking so hot the last couple of times I saw you. Is everything okay?”

Soonyoung coughs and his eyes do the flickering thing again and Jisoo’s glad when he remembers that he locked the door. It’ll give him time to stop Soonyoung if he tries to make a run for it. “Y-yeah, you know. My rib’s healing and I’m -”

“Soonyoung, I know I’m not exactly your average mafia employee, or, whatever it is that you’d call me, but I’m not blind. I know that something’s going on with you.”

He hopes the pushiness in his voice isn’t too clear. 

“What? Wh-why would you say th-that?” Soonyoung fidgets around with his hands and then he looks up quickly. “T-the water. Boiling. It’s b-boiling.”

“Ha. Alright.” Jisoo stands up and makes his way over to the pot. Soonyoung seems hellbent on staying quiet and it’s not like he can bring this issue to Jeonghan. He’d either hurt Soonyoung or Jisoo himself or both. 

He comes back with the tea and Soonyoung takes a small sip. “Do you like it?”

 

“Y-yes, thank you.” Soonyoung sets the cup down. “I don’t know anything, Jisoo. I can’t tell you what you w-”

“I never said I wanted you to tell me something. I just thought there was something wrong. You look stressed.”

Bingo.

Soonyoung’s eyes open in a startled manner and Jisoo smiles. Play it safe. You’ll only scare Soonyoung off if you say something.

“Huh? Oh, no, I meant that -” Soonyoung stands up. “Hey, I’ve got to g-go. I’ll see you around, okay?”

Jisoo’s ready for this, but he’s not ready for when Soonyoung deliberately shoves the cup off the table. It crashes onto the floor and Jisoo trips over himself when he stumbles backwards to avoid the boiling hot water that splashes up. Soonyoung’s already done opening the door when Jisoo runs over. 

“Soonyoung!” Jisoo shouts. “Soonyoung, what’s wrong, what did you se-”

“I can’t say!” Soonyoung’s screaming back. “Jisoo, I would tell you if I could, but, he’d kill me! He’d kill me!” 

Jisoo needs to calm him down. Soonyoung’s starting to hyperventilate. 

“Soonyoung!” Jisoo grabs onto Soonyoung’s sleeve before he disappears down the hall. “Soonyoung, don’t you trust me? I wouldn’t say anything! To anyone! You know that, right?”

Soonyoung’s crying. 

“You don’t know him, Jisoo, he’d tear you apart!”

“Who!” Jisoo hates interrogating people but Soonyoung knows something about what happened during the attack and he’s not saying. “Who, Soonyoung?”

Soonyoung tries to tear his arm away and sobs heavily. Jisoo’s not letting go and his grip only tightens. He feels sorry but he can’t just let Soonyoung go. 

“Jisoo, please.” Soonyoung scrubs his and tries to wipe the tears away. “He’s going to hurt me.”

At least Jisoo knows it’s a he. 

“I won’t let that happen.”

Soonyoung continues to cry but it looks like he’s giving up with the resisting. “Just be careful, okay? You need to stop trusting everyone you see.”

“I’ve met them before?”

Soonyoung manages to rip his arm out of Jisoo’s hand and Jisoo gets knocked backwards. He doesn’t mean to, but a rushed curse slips from his lips and he gets himself up.

Fuck. 

Soonyoung’s gone. 

-  
-

“Jisoo. Jisoo!” 

Jeonghan slams a hand down on his desk and Jisoo snaps out of his daze. 

Well, not really a daze, since he’s been thinking. About Soonyoung. 

About who he knows. 

“Yes, sorry, Jeonghan. I’m here.” Jisoo shakes his head and holds back a sour face when the smell of cigarette ash fills his nose. Jeonghan raises a brow. “Sorry. Did you need something?”

Jeonghan points to an envelope that sits in the middle of his desk. “I’ve been asking you to bring that to the main office for about ten minutes now.” His eyes narrow. “What’re you thinking about? Your eyes are doing that thing.”

Jisoo takes the envelope. “What thing?”

“The thing where they get all narrow and then you look like your about to shit your pants and then they start getting glassy. I don’t know. Your thinking face. That thing.” 

“Bite me.” Jisoo rolls his eyes and tucks the envelope into his jacket pocket.

Jeonghan scoffs and Jisoo looks up. 

Oh God. 

Did he just tell Jeonghan to b-

“What?” Jeonghan genuinely laughs. “Huh, Jisoo. I’ve known you for your whole life and that’s the first tim-”

“My whole life?” Jisoo blinks. 

That can’t be right. 

He can’t remember growing up here. 

There’s no way he could have grown up here. 

It’s in the records. 

 

Oh. 

 

Jeonghan just made a mistake. 

 

“No, I mean, the whole time you’ve been here. I slip-”

“No, Jeonghan, how long was I here for?” Jeonghan actually looks flushed, like he’s been caught in a sudden trap that he didn’t ever see coming. 

Jisoo decides to push. 

“Jeonghan, you know, I’ve been with you for so long that I can’t remember my life before. And I read the records; I wasn’t from here. How old am I? My papers say twenty-seven, but is that true? Do you even know? Can I leave? Who am I, Jeonghan?”

He’s growing flustered. Jeonghan sits there, saying nothing. Doing nothing. Jisoo wants to scream. 

“Jisoo, it says it in the papers. You’ve been here twelve years. You are twenty-seven, and I don’t know what to tell you about your life from before. I didn’t know you when I first hired you.”

“So I was hired?”

“Yes, Jisoo. You were hired.”

There’s no point in pushing if Jeonghan is adamant on staying quiet. And if he’s not going to say anything, it’s not like anyone else is. Jisoo’s gonna have to dig around a bit more. 

“Sorry, Jeonghan. I’m just -” Jisoo holds up the letter. “I’ll just go.”

Jisoo’s at the door when Jeonghan clears his throat. Jisoo doesn’t turn around but he stops moving for a second. 

“As for you leaving, I’ll allow it. After we find out who was behind the attack and why. Once we figure out why my men are dropping like flies. Once we figure out if they’re related or not. I’ll let you go, since that’s what you clearly want.”

No, no, no.

Don’t say that.

Jisoo nods. 

Don’t mean it.

He turns the knob. 

Keep me here, Jeonghan, tell me that you want me to stay because I will. 

Jisoo closes the door behind him. 

Tell me that you want me here. 

 

That you need me here. 

 

Jisoo wipes the tears on his face away before continuing on. 

It would be embarrassing if anyone else saw. 

-  
-

Jisoo hurries to drops off the letter at the main desk. Hansol sits there with an aloof look on his face and smiles when Jisoo nears. 

How are these kids being trained to become murderers? Spies? Hackers? Jisoo always feels a sting whenever he has to look at the kids born into this. (Hansol’s parents are pretty high up in the hierarchy here but Jisoo isn’t too sure of what they do. He doesn’t care enough to ask, though, because then he’ll only get more sad about Hansol.)

“Hey, hyung! Wow, I don’t really see you around a lot!” 

“Hey, Sol. How’s it going? How’s the training going?”

“Oh! Well, I’m getting really good at defensive fighting but I’m still struggling with the offense thing. I’ll have to practice more before the exam.”

Jisoo hates how normal it sounds. 

Which is weird. 

Since this is his only life. He doesn’t like that part of himself, Jisoo thinks. He’s weak. This is all he knows and for some reason, he wants nothing else but for Hansol to somehow be normal.

“Lucky you, though. Defense is harder than offense, trust me.”

“Oh, hyung, were you good? Do you think you could help me?”

Jisoo slides the letter onto the desk and Hansol takes it while keeping eye contact. 

“Well, I’m not a field agent. I can’t fight very well; I’m just here to help with the information.”

“Oh! Right, speaking of information, I got a report from Mingyu-ssi’s team that needs to be given to Mr. Yoon.”

“I’ll take it up to him.”

Mingyu works under the “technology division” (which is just a fancy cover for the fact that it’s a unit that specializes in hacking and decoding and sorting out information to send to each department), so it’s either going to be very good news, or very bad news. Things that aren’t that important are split between overseers, the people in head of departments.

Jisoo grips the envelope in his hand and hurries off to Jeonghan’s office. He knows the air between them is going to be tense but honestly, this is just a job that he has to get through. 

He can leave.

Jisoo wonders if he will. 

Leave Jeonghan behind. 

Leave this all behind. 

-  
-

“A total of fifty-four deaths.” 

Jeonghan throws the paper onto the floor rather flippantly and downs a glass of whisky. Jisoo bites back a sigh; he’s getting sick of the scent of whisky. 

“The medical examiners are trying to determine why there’s a sudden influx of drug-related deaths. It’s horrible, but they've managed to put together a series of connections.”

Jisoo read the letter because Jeonghan didn’t feel like it. Jeonghan had just merely picked it up and played with the edges after Jisoo handed it back to him. 

“What are they?”

“Well, the most prominent one is that the majority of men that have died is that they weren’t working in fields related to moving drugs. Only four of them were, actually, a part of the drugs unit. Besides that, the others were number crunchers or bodyguards or field agents or trainors. It seems like whatever’s going on, the drugs aren’t actually touching the people touching the drugs.”

Jeonghan closes his eyes and tips his head back. “Or maybe it’s just easier for whoever’s planning this to blame it on something else if it can’t be traced back to the workers in the drug unit. There’s still a handful of deaths.”

Jisoo can see that. 

“Just enough to keep them out of suspicion.”

“Right.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Jeonghan, Jeonghan, we’ve got something!” Seungcheol flies into the office, all red in the face and out-of-breath and doubled over. He ran from somewhere, it seems. “They, the, uh, managed to narrow down the - God, let me just-” Seungcheol blinks a couple of times and throws himself onto the couch. 

“Are you okay?” Jeonghan gives him a look that says, if I find a sweat stain on that sofa after you leave, I will have your ass for dinner.

Not that. 

Jisoo does not want anything to happen with Jeonghan and Seungcheol. 

“Why, what would happen?” 

Jisoo looks at Jeonghan. “Huh?”

Jeonghan gives him a weird look now. “You just, you just said. That something would happen between me and Seungcheol.”

Oh great. Now he’s saying things out loud. 

Jisoo bites his tongue and shakes his head. “Oh, no, nothing. I just, you two are, oh, hey, Seuncheol! You good now? What were you going to say?”

Seungcheol sucks in a breath. “The investigation squad. They found two possible groups that could have been behind it, and it’s a seventy-percent chance that we’ll narrow it down to the right one.”

“Sounds fake.” Jeonghan gives Seungcheol a pissed off look. “Seventy percent chance? Don’t fuck with me, Seungcheol. Math doesn’t mean shit.”

 

“Okay, fine. We’ll have a good chance of narrowing it down to the right one.”

“How?”

“Well, the tech team helped them recover the CCTV files that were thought to have been lost. And in Seokjin’s letter, he let us know that one of his men had phoned in before he was taken out. He had called for backup because men in uniforms had a red letter on their backs.”

Jisoo scrunches up his nose. “He was being chased and he managed to let the backup team know what letter they had on their backs?”

Seungcheol shakes his head. “No, he was able to hide out for a while, but the phone signal must have sent out some kind of alarm to the attackers. There’s two possible groups that fit into the description, but we can’t just call out both.”

“Which two groups?”

“Syndicate and Maero.”

Jeonghan looks up with his head resting on his hand. His elbow is propped up against the armchair and he looks kind of bored. 

“Tell the investigation team that they’re fucking stupid. I’ll kill them all.” Jeonghan’s last sentence has no weight to it but his voice still sounds like a bite. 

“What?”

“It can’t be Maero.”

“Why not?”

“One of our overseer's daughters is married to the second-in-command over there. If they tried anything, that would mean that I’d have to kill off every single leader here. And they wouldn’t risk that. We’d swallow them whole.”

“I’ll go make sure that it’s Syndicate.”

Seungcheol disappears and Jisoo looks down at the floor. 

“Are you sure?” Jisoo doesn’t want to doubt Jeonghan or anything, but this problem isn’t just one he can slide through like everything else. Jisoo’s never been faced with working on such a hard and complicated case before, which means that Jeonghan probably hasn’t either. “Jeonghan, we have to be smart about this.”

“No, I’m not.” Jeonghan’s lit up a cigarette that he’s pulled out of nowhere but he doesn’t puff it. He just lets it hang off of his gloved hands. “But what can I do, Jisoo? If there’s a threat to this group, then I need to get rid of it. Syndicate’s weak enough for us to wipe out.”

It’s irrational.

It’s unlike Jeonghan. 

Jisoo wonders what he’s thinking about. 

-  
-

Jisoo is one-hundred percent sure that he’s suffering from Stockholm Syndrome. 

There is literally no other possible reason that he’s here, doing this.

“Jisoo, are you sure? I wasn’t kidding. I’ll let you leave.”

“You’re promising me protection.” Jisoo dips his head forward when Jeonghan presses down at his nape. He holds back a shiver. “So yes, I’m sure.”

“Just protection? That’s all you want from me?”

Jeonghan places a wet kiss at the point where Jisoo’s neck melts into his spine. It’s all hot and Jisoo feels jittery. “Yes, Jeonghan. Just protection.”

Jeonghan’s teasing him. 

 

Jisoo doesn’t catch it until now and he feels dumb. 

 

“Alright. If it hurts, let me know.”

“Okay.”

The swipe of rubbing alcohol. 

Something sharp pricking his skin.

Jisoo sucks in a deep breath. 

It’s Jeonghan’s permanent mark on him. 

Invicta. 

 

The name and the motto of Jeonghan’s mafia. 

 

 

Unconquered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOF OKAY so i really kinda want the ACTUAL MAFIA TINGZZ to start so im pushing this baby and ik rip no sexc time w jihan this time but!! there is!! stuffs to be read!! in the future!! 
> 
>  
> 
> why did i type like that ew ok


	6. ante bellum

Jisoo wakes up in the middle of the night, but he doesn’t really know if it constitutes as waking up, since he’s been tossing and turning without break for the last five hours. 

 

  
Soonyoung’s been untraceable. But he’s not dead. Jisoo’s too scared to ask around anymore. 

 

And he’s got the whole negotiation with Seokjin tomorrow. Jeonghan had been stressed out all day today, snappier than usual and snarkier with his disses. 

 

 

Not a good sign. 

 

Jisoo skims his finger over the back of his neck and winces at the slight sting. 

 

It hurts. 

 

-  
-

“How many cars did you set up?” 

 

Jisoo hands over a binder to Seungcheol and rushes to stay side-to-side with Seungcheol. His strides are rushed and his shoulders seem to be hiked further up his body. 

 

“Three. You’re riding in the third one this time.”

 

“But I’m not a field ag-”

 

“Not with the agents. With the tech crew. I couldn’t get you a seat with Jeonghan because you aren’t a bodyguard, either. Help Mingyu with surveillance.”

 

“Does this mean I’m not going into the building with you?”

 

Seungcheol stops all of a sudden and Jisoo nearly smashes his nose into Seungcheol’s back. 

 

“What’s wr-”

 

“Hurry the team up, Seungcheol. This isn’t a joke meeting.” Jeonghan shows up out of nowhere and tilts his head to motion for everyone to keep walking. His hands are clasped loosely behind his back and the black leather gloves seem to stick tighter against his wrists than before. “Are the cars up front?”

 

Seungcheol gives Jisoo a look. Did you?

 

Jisoo clears his throat. “Y-yes. They are.”

 

“And you’re riding in the third one, yes?”

 

“Yes, Jeonghan.” Jisoo wrings out his hands and nearly trips over his own feet when he rushes forward to push open the glass doors for Jeonghan. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous today; it’s not like this is first negotiation. 

 

Jeonghan’s shoes click down the cement steps and he waits for Seungcheol to open up the car door. “This can’t go wrong.” Jeonghan tugs at his collar and the deep maroon of the fabric glints like blood against the sun. “I won’t be tolerating mistakes.”

 

Jeonghan disappears into the car and Seungcheol gives Jisoo a little smile before sliding in after him. The door slams shut and Jisoo makes his way to his own car. 

 

Jeonghan’s going to get his answer, right?

 

-  
-

 

“Oh, you brought him!”

 

Seokjin’s there to greet everyone, standing at the top of the steps like a king. His black trench coat waves around in the wind like the cape of a grim reaper and his bleached hair is also back to black. It’s coiffed perfectly on top of his already-perfect face and Jisoo gulps. He pats Mingyu on the shoulder before he scurries up to Seungcheol’s side. 

 

Jeonghan’s the first one to start walking on the steps. “What the fuck are you talking about, Seokjin.”

 

Seokjin lets out a laugh and it’s the kind where he ends up throwing his head back and holding his stomach. It’s sharp and shrill and grates against Jisoo’s ears. He’s far away but the open space makes it echo around the air. “I meant Jisoo, silly. My pretty little thing. Come up here with him.”

 

Jeonghan glares Jisoo knows it’s because Seokjin’s acting like he didn’t force Jisoo to come. 

 

Jeonghan scoffs. “Yeah. No. I’m going with Seungcheol.”

 

Seokjin shrugs. “I don’t know who that is. If you don’t come up here with Jisoo, you’re not coming here at all.”

 

Jeonghan turns his head around just enough for Jisoo to make eye contact. His eyes are set harshly and Jisoo feels Seungcheol tap the back of his hand with a finger. 

 

“Go, Jisoo. C’mon.” Seungcheol jerks his head forward to let him know that he should start walking.

 

Seungcheol starts on the steps and Jisoo follows. 

 

-  
-

 

“No, no, no. You sit here.”

 

Seokjin pats the empty space next to him with a vaguely threatening smile on his face. Jisoo doesn’t answer. 

 

He doesn’t move unless Jeonghan tells him to. 

 

“Fuck off, Seokjin. You called me here because you said you’d be willing to negotiate with me for information.”

 

“I am. I want Jisoo. Just have him sit here, right here, I won’t do anything.”

 

Jeonghan shakes his head. “No.”

 

“Then I’m not giving you my file.”

 

“I’ll get it through -”

 

“Some other source? I’ve killed every single person who could even remotely help you. Have fun.”

 

“Jeonghan. I’ll just sit there. You need his file.” Jisoo keeps his eyes down. He’s scared of looking at Jeonghan right now; he doesn’t want to see the expression he’s wearing right now. 

 

Jeonghan grits his teeth and Seungcheol crosses his legs uncomfortably. Jisoo wants to push the strands of silver hair that fall down Jeonghan’s face away. 

 

“Alright.” Jisoo stands up and Seokjin claps almost gleefully. “But if you lay a finger on him, I’ll have you dead before you let your next breath out.”

 

Seokjin flaps his hand. “Huh, Jeonghan. That’s funny, considering you took Ji -”

 

“Shut up!” Jeonghan slams his hand down on the table in front of him and Jisoo jumps in his seat. “Shut the fuck up, Seokjin. Give me the fucking file.”

 

“Oh, alright. I’ll let you tell him.” Seokjin gives Jisoo a lopsided grin and Jisoo feels his brows pull together. What the hell are they talking about? “Min, the file, please.” Seokjin snaps his fingers and a pale ghost of a man leans over with a manila folder. He hands it to Seokjin robotically and goes back to standing next to Seokjin’s chair. 

 

“Hand it over.”

 

Seokjin slides it over the table and Jeonghan snatches it up. “There, Jeonghan. See? How easy was that?” 

 

“Get up, Jisoo.” Jeonghan stands up and Seungcheol follows suit. “This was too easy.”

 

Seokjin smiles. 

 

“You’re right, Jeonghan.” Seokjin looks at the guy named Min next to him. “It was too easy, wasn’t it?”

 

Seungcheol lets out a sudden grunt and crumples down to his knees. 

 

Jeonghan’s the first to react. “Seungcheol! What the fuc-”

 

Seungcheol strains to look up and when he opens his mouth, a trail of red slips out from between his lips. Jisoo sucks in a sharp breath - he can’t even scream; it’s like something’s suffocating him. “Jeong-h-han -” 

 

Fuck. 

 

Jisoo doesn’t realize that he’s been stabbed until something curls around his wrist with a painful pinch. 

 

Jeonghan lunges and yanks Jisoo roughly away from Seokjin’s side. He flies over the floor like a limp rag doll; he stumbles awkwardly and gets pulled along as Seungcheol’s being held up by the stickly man named Min. 

 

“H-he-l-” Seungcheol’s lips flutter uselessly against the torrent of blood gushing from his lips. His abdomen is stained and Seokjin laughs. It sounds maniacal and echoey in Jisoo’s ears. 

 

“Seokjin!” Jeonghan’s voice roars over Jisoo’s mental clamor. “You’ll pay -”

 

“You said not touch Jisoo. I didn’t.” Seokjin laughs one more time but it’s disdainful and gritty. “Now, either save yourself or him. You don’t have much time.” Seokjin places a hand next to his mouth like he’s trying to do a stage whisper. The look in his eyes is condescending and Jisoo feels himself getting pulled along again. 

 

It’s up to Jeonghan. 

 

Get out now, and leave Seungcheol behind, or try to get Seungcheol with their own lives at risk. 

 

Seokjin’s not backing down. 

 

Jeonghan lets out another curse and presses at his earpiece. “Start up all the cars. Now!” 

 

It’s like he’s walking underwater. Jisoo feels like he’s floating. He stares at Seungcheol, who stares right back at him. He’s so red; red all over, his shirt, his pants, his mouth, the floor around him, Min’s hands. 

 

So red. 

 

Jisoo’s floating down the steps now. Seungcheol’s long out of sight but his eyes, Seungcheol’s eyes, they just stare at Jisoo. 

 

Jeonghan’s no longer holding him. He’s motioning frantically at something behind them; oh, you want me to go into the third car? Sure. Jisoo tries to run. 

 

Come on, feet. Will you work? Please? No? Fine.

 

Jeonghan’s car is already peeling out and Mingyu has the car door open for him, waving and yelling and he’s angry, or maybe scared. 

 

Come on, come, Jisoo, what the fuck! Why’re you taking so long! I’ve got to start the car, jump in! I’m not going to drive fast until you get in, but it’s going to be moving, okay, okay? Get ready to jump, Jisoo!

 

Okay, okay. I’m ready. 

 

Jisoo sees Mingyu disappear into the driver seat and he wasn’t lying; the car starts moving down the road and Jisoo runs along side of it to jump but then he can’t jump, because a hand his clamping down on his neck in a very nicely executed chokehold, while another one holds his waist down. 

 

Someone else jumps into Mingyu’s car. 

 

There’s a gunshot. 

 

The car continues to move down the road and so Jisoo decides that it’s not Mingyu who’s been killed.

 

Mingyu’s too far now. 

 

Jeonghan’s not going to let him come back. 

 

What’s that on your hand, kind sir? Something poisonous, Jisoo guesses. 

 

Why is time moving by so quick?

 

There are Seungcheol’s eyes, staring and staring and staring. 

 

Goodbye, Seungcheol. 

 

Is Jisoo falling? 

 

I don’t know, it just looks red. And now black. There it goes, all the red and the red and the red and now it’s black. So dark. I can’t see! Can’t see, can’t see, it’s all black. 

 

It’s so dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh we LOVE a captured jisoo sdlkfjslkdjflksj


	7. rosa nobis mortuus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dead roses at our feet

Why am I here?

 

Jisoo tries to gather his thoughts but he comes up empty. Where is he? Rows and rows of seats, stained windows, a golden, ornate pulpit. Jisoo feels his eyes widen almost painfully. A - 

 

Church?

 

Yes, it’s a church. It has to be. 

 

There’s a cross behind the altar that seems like it’s made of glass. 

 

It’s blinding. 

 

Jisoo blinks the scattered light that collects in his eyes away as he walks down the line of pews. Green fabric covers the seat and the worn wood is grainy and pale. 

 

How did he get here?

 

Jisoo looks down at his clothes. They aren’t comfortable, but they aren’t uncomfortable. An inky black shirt drapes loosely over his frame while a pair of black linen pants cover his legs. No shoes. The ugly carpet sinks under his feet like soft moss. 

 

Did Seokjin drop me off here? Is this some kind of maze? Some kind of trap?

 

Jisoo feels a wave of nausea as he thinks about what happened, trying to sort the memories in his head. 

 

Seungcheol. 

 

Blood. 

 

Jeonghan’s rough hand. 

 

Jisoo stops walking down the path to the altar and slides into a pew. He’s tired all of a sudden. He pulls his fingers under the skin of his eye. It’s dry and stiff. No give. 

 

He’s withering away like the dead lilies placed on the pulpit. 

 

Seungcheol falling. 

 

Blood spilling. 

 

Jeonghan’s rough hand pulling his arm. 

 

Jisoo does it again. Why is he doing this? Why is he forcing himself to remember? He doesn’t know anything. There’s no hidden clues to look for. There’s no puzzle to piece together. 

 

Seungcheol falling onto his knees. 

 

Blood spilling onto the white marble floor. 

 

Jeonghan’s rough hand pulling his arm through the building.

 

Jisoo closes his eyes and places his elbows on the pew in front of him so he can lean on his arms. 

 

Seungcheol falling onto his knees. 

 

His eyes open.

 

That doesn’t mean dead. 

 

Technically, no one actually saw Seungcheol die. 

 

He looks up. Maybe he should pray while he’s here. Jisoo looks at the stained glass window, of which the cross is attached to. A snake lunges forward in insidious fractals of greens and blacks and fiery orange. It’s eyes glitter it’s fangs grow outwards, body pulled back to strike. 

 

Sunlight creeps through the stained glass and splatters shades of emerald and midnight all over the floor and ceilings and pews. They slitter out onto the golden pillars in between each row of pews and coats them in crystal splendor. Jisoo holds his hand out. 

 

He stands up and catches a ray of sky before it melts back away into the background. 

 

How long is he going to sit here for? Is Seokjin coming back? Did Jeonghan do something? Why is he here?

 

I want to pray. 

 

Jisoo touches his palms together. 

 

What?

 

Jisoo’s never prayed before, and yet, he’s able to pull the words out of his mouth like he’s done this a million times. 

 

“Our Father in Heaven, hallowed be your name.”

 

Jisoo can’t help but gasp at himself. 

 

I’ve never done this before. 

 

The verse seems to be ready to slip off his tongue like molten honey when something interrupts him. 

 

“You seem to be having a moment with yourself. Should I leave you alone?”

 

Jisoo nearly dies of shock right then and there and yet his hands stayed glued together. 

 

It’s Jeonghan’s voice. 

 

Jisoo can’t seem to respond. 

 

“I am here today to confess my sins before you. I will lay down my soul in front of your holy self for judgement.” Jisoo wants to say something to Jeonghan. He needs to, but the words. They’re stuck in his throat. He keeps praying. “I have hurt people. I have maimed a great number of men and I have killed. I have killed a great number of men and I have not once, ever asked for your forgiveness.”

 

Why am I confessing all of a sudden? Come on, turn around! Jeonghan’s here! Say something to him!

 

“Aw, is this your way of saying that you don’t want me here?”

 

The voice is too close. 

 

Jeonghan’s right behind him, in between the pew and Jisoo’s back. The whisper of breath touches the shell of Jisoo’s ear and he wants to turn around and look at Jeonghan, but he can’t. His body is frozen into place and his lips are the only thing part of him that move, but they won’t speak to Jeonghan for some reason. 

 

“I have thrown bodies away into the earth like they were nothing more than dead flies. I have helped others a countless amount of times to use pain as a means to get results. I have worked for a man who shows no mercy. He kills without hesitation and has no soul that I can imagine. There is no life or light left in this killer. ”

 

Turn around, turn around, Jisoo, turn your fucking body!

 

He can’t. 

 

“Is that what you see me as?” 

 

A chin hooks onto Jisoo’s shoulders and Jisoo wants to turn the fuck around but his feet, his waist, his head, his hands - 

 

They don’t move. 

 

“But I am willing to lay my life down for this man, Lord, more than I would for you. I would like to ask for forgiveness for this as well. I could not love you more than this man.” Open your damn eyes! Open them! 

 

“I love you, too.”

 

Jisoo’s eyes are closed and he’s starting to swim with the stars behind his eyelids. 

 

How the hell did Jeonghan get here? 

 

He loves me?

 

“I pray for repent and that you shall -”

 

“C’mon, Jisoo. I love you.” Jeonghan’s voice is lilted and he can practically feel the smug smile that’s painted onto his face. Oh. Oh. “Look at me.”

 

“- That you shall see these sins as -”

 

A hand snakes under his shirt and Jisoo moves for the first time. His back arches under the ghosts of fingers splayed against his ribcage. His breath comes out as a staccato when Jeonghan pulls him closer to him. 

 

“Jisoo, come on.”

 

The other hand slides up his shirt as well. 

 

One traces patterns over his stomach while the other draws out a picture over the top of his chest. 

 

Jisoo feels his heart racing. 

 

His eyes finally open. He can’t see Jeonghan, but he can see the leg that’s been placed in between his thighs and the hands forcing his shirt up. 

 

“ - These sins as a mortal’s failure to be p-” Jeonghan sinks his teeth a bit too forcefully at the curve of his shoulder and rips the shirt that’s still covering him, off. It flutters to the floor a bit too easily. “- p-pure. I do not want to place b-blame o-on humani - hngg!” 

 

Jisoo lets out a yelp when Jeonghan’s mouth detaches from his skin at the same time he starts pushing hastily at the waistline of Jisoo’s linen pants. He falls forward into the pew and Jeonghan uses this moment as a chance to sit the both of them down. Jisoo lands on Jeonghan’s lap with bruised thighs. 

 

“I don’t care if you pray or not, but you gotta look at me.” Jeonghan forces Jisoo to stand again and sits him down so Jisoo’s straddling his waist. “By all means, keep going.”

 

Jisoo doesn’t understand why he can’t stop with the confession. It’s like his physical body is stuck in a trance, but his mental state isn’t. 

 

“I will not place blame on hum - unggh- anit-ty - ahh, but I will n-” Jeonghan smiles deliciously as he pulls Jisoo’s pants down just enough to reach everything he has to. 

 

“Tell me what you want.”

 

The light that comes from behind the stained window hits Jeonghan’s cheekbones and makes his silver hair look hazy. His eyes are caramel and smooth and Jisoo wants to break himself over Jeonghan. 

 

“Touch me.”

 

Jisoo’s breath is nothing but a faint whisper, nothing but the murmur of a dove’s wings, nothing but the thinly concealed beating of his heart. 

 

It’s the first thing he’s managed to say that wasn’t a part of his prayer. 

 

He feels so out of it.

 

Jeonghan lets out a little hmm, and places a wet kiss in the middle of Jisoo’s sternum, taking his time as Jisoo moans into it. Jeonghan continues with little nips and bites before pulling away completely with spit-slick lips that sparkle like diamonds. Jisoo wants to run his tongue over them. 

 

“More?”

 

Jisoo nods, breathless and dizzy with the lights and Jeonghan and his touch, just all there for him now. 

 

“I want more.”

 

Jeonghan tilts his head and his silver hair falls past his shoulder like a colorless rainbow. “Oh?”

 

“I want to touch you.”

 

Jeonghan laughs. “Well, I wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

 

“No. Your face, Jeonghan.”

 

Jeonghan’s mouth stays open mid-smile. “Ah.”

 

Jisoo blushes. “N-no, it’s, neverm -”

 

“Do it.” Jeonghan closes his eyes and brings his hands down to wrap around Jisoo’s waist. They spread out over his hips and press him even harder against Jeonghan’s body. Jisoo’s breath stutters and he reaches out with shaky hands to edge over Jeonghan’s cheekbones. 

 

His skin is so soft. 

 

Like the clouds up in heaven. 

 

Jeonghan allows for Jisoo to cup his hands around his face while he pulls him down into a kiss. Jisoo can feel the edge of his palms touch his own face and Jeonghan doesn’t protest the fact that Jisoo hasn’t let go yet. Instead, he seems to indulge himself in it and slips a finger right over Jisoo’s entrance. 

 

 

“Can I?”

 

Jisoo sucks in a breath before nodding. Jeonghan smiles and he’s everywhere all at once. Inside of him, besides him, in front of him, under him. 

 

Jeonghan’s presence is all Jisoo needs. 

 

“F-fuck -” Jisoo groans when Jeonghan slides in another finger. It feels so hot and completing and -

 

And. 

 

Jisoo pulls away from Jeonghan. 

 

It doesn’t hurt. 

 

That’s not possible. 

 

Jeonghan just slide two fingers into Jisoo without lube, and without pain. 

 

“Why did you let me touch you?”

 

Jeonghan smiles quizzically, brows drawing together with utmost confusion. “What? Because I like it. I like you.”

 

“No.”

 

Jisoo’s heart shatters. 

 

“What?”

 

“That’s not the right answer.”

 

Jeonghan shouldn’t have said yes to his request in the first place. He’d never say yes to something like that. Face-touching is a no-no in his books. 

 

He shouldn’t be here in the first place. 

 

“Well, what do you want to hear? I love, Jisoo. I love you, so-”

 

“Stop.” Jisoo turns his head away, pushing his palm on Jeonghan’s chest to stop him from moving and Jeonghan pulls his hands away. He feels so empty. “Stop.”

 

“What?”

 

This isn’t real. 

 

Jisoo knows that. He looks behind him for a moment. 

 

The serpent. It’s smiling at me.

 

This isn’t real. 

 

This isn’t real -

 

So why not? An insidious whisper of thoughts caresses the back of his head; prodding his darkest wishes and pulling them up to the surface. 

 

This Jeonghan is Jisoo’s creation. 

 

So Jisoo shakes his head. “N-nevermind. Sorry. I was being weird.”

 

Dream Jeonghan™ sighs like he’s relieved and goes back to the soft touches from before. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt, okay?”

 

Jisoo decides that it doesn’t matter which Jeonghan breaks him - the real one, or this one. 

 

Jisoo doesn’t care. 

 

So he decides to let go of all of his inhibitions and drowns himself into Jeonghan’s starry eyes and pink cheeks and white smile. He slips even deeper into the rabbit hole of Jeonghan’s hands and chest and muscled waist. 

 

He can’t stop himself from splintering into shards of blood and flesh and hurt and desperation.

 

Jisoo’s throat closes up.

 

There’s no forgiveness that he deserves.

 

Jisoo forces his lashes to flutter under the guise of being slightly uncomfortable with Jeonghan’s sudden entrance, but the truth is, it feels like absolutely nothing. 

 

Jisoo wants to stab at his reflection. 

 

This isn’t real. 

 

And no wonder, for Satan himself masquerades as an angel of light. 

 

-  
-

 

Oh, it’s so bright. 

 

Jisoo’s eyes aren’t open but whatever’s in front of him or over his head is bright as fuck and he can’t even think straight, even with his eyes closed. He brings an aching arm over his eyes in order to try to relieve himself from the constant pulsation of light, which sort of helps. 

 

Jisoo can’t seem to open his eyes properly. 

 

Besides the whole “eyeballs on fire” thing, they literally feel like they’re on fire. Jisoo brings his free hand up to his face and poke at his eyelids. They’re puffy. 

 

He must have cried. 

 

Slowly, he works on blinking more and more until he can fully open them without struggling to keep them there. 

 

It takes Jisoo a minute to comprehend where he is. 

 

“You’re up.”

 

Jisoo’s vision is blurred and his tongue feels uncomfortably swollen and dry in his mouth. He tries to breathe through his nose, but that feels painful, as well. There’s a dull aching that washes over his whole entire body over and over again until Jisoo wishes he was unconscious again. 

 

“Wh-who are you?” 

 

Ew. 

 

Jisoo’s voice sounds like sandpaper and gravel being rubbed together and his throat feels pretty much the same. He clutches at his neck when the soreness starts radiating again, but it doesn’t do much good. 

 

“Are you okay, Jisoo? Why can’t you see me?”

 

Jisoo squeezes his eyes shut and groans. What do you mean, why can’t I see? Why can you see? It’s bright as all hell in here. 

 

“Because. Light.”

 

The laughter that comes from the other man is grating against his ears and Jisoo sucks in the deepest breath he can without his whole stomach feeling like he’s being punched when he feels a familiar pang in his stomach. 

 

“Who are you?” Jisoo asks, eyes squinting as hard as he can. 

 

“Jisoo, c’mon, really?”

 

Jisoo feels sweat starting to run down his back like a cold snake and he finally starts to smush all the different fractions of images that float around his eyes into one picture and then he nearly passes out all over again. 

 

“Seungcheol?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so seungcheol isn't dead whew did i get u guys ldkfjdsklfj


	8. ad perpetuam memoriam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> to the perpetual memory

“Seungcheol?”

 

Jisoo scrambles backwards despite the flash of pain that ripples throughout his body. He nearly falls and hits his head. 

 

Seungcheol is sitting in front of him, cross-legged and bloody. His shirt’s torn and cut up to the point that it looks more like a rag that’s been stretched out over his torso than a t-shirt. Despite the mess of fabric on his body, though, his skin and hair looks immaculately clean. 

 

“Yeah. God. I was kind of worried you were dead.” Seungcheol gives him a little smile but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “You don’t breathe that loud. I never noticed.”

 

Jisoo glares. “You’re making jokes right now? Aren’t we being held captive? Did you figure out how to get out of here?”

 

“Yes, yes, no.” Seungcheol flings his hands up in the air, motioning to the room they’re stuck in. Four walls, all white, one steel door with no apparent handle. It must only be accessible to those outside. “But can you really blame me?” Seungcheol waves his hands over his abdomen and Jisoo flushes with guilt. 

 

“No. I guess not. But, so what? Are we just going to sit here until someone comes to get us?”

 

 

Jisoo twists his fingers around. 

 

 

If. 

 

If someone comes to get us. 

 

Seungcheol wears the same worried expression upon his face but he bites back a grimace. He pats the floor besides him and Jisoo wordlessly scoots over to put himself between Seungcheol’s arm. 

 

He feels skinny. 

 

“Seungcheol?”

 

“Yes, Jisoo?” Seungcheol turns his head and gives Jisoo a concerned glance, eyebrows pulled together and lips tight. 

 

“How do you go to the bathroom?”

-  
-

 

“Are my two pretties awake?”

 

Something slams on the metal door and Jisoo jolts out of a restless sleep. He clambors into Seungcheol’s side and Seungcheol’s fingers wrap tightly around his arm. 

 

“What?” 

 

Ew. 

 

Jisoo’s voice is all crackly and rough and Seungcheol rubs the sleep out of his eyes while Jisoo tries to see what’s going on. 

 

“Yes, sir, they’re awake.” An unrecognizable voice speaks. “Should I get them?”

 

“No. Just that one.”

 

Seungcheol’s fingers twitch against Jisoo’s skin and Jisoo pulls in closer even though every single muscle and tendon inside of his body screams at him not to. 

 

The door slams open and before Jisoo can let out a muffled groan of protest, he’s ripped painfully out of Seungcheol’s grasp and is jerked upwards like a rag doll. His neck cracks more loudly than he thinks it should have, and Seungcheol lets out a curse. 

 

“Hey, hey! Leave Jisoo alone, Seokjin, take me instead, I -”

 

“Seungcheol, I’ll be fine, okay? I’ll be fine.” Jisoo’s voice is rough against his throat and the guy pulling at him yanks him one last time. 

 

 

Seokjin stands in front of the doorway like some kind of demon ready to suck him into hell. He’s smiling with a sick, twisted glare that seems to bore into the very core of Jisoo’s soul. 

 

“Shut him up.”

 

With those words, Seokjin spins around on his heels and there’s a hollow thud against the back of Jisoo’s head. 

 

God. How many times do I need to be knocked unconscious in order for people to realize, that I in fact do not enjoy it?

 

Jisoo blacks out. 

 

-  
-

 

“Fuck.”

 

Jisoo’s curse is a tense whisper under his breath. There are ropes that tie him down into a chair (wooden and hard and just plain horrible to be tied down to) quite firmly. 

 

Jisoo fruitlessly squirms around in the chair, like shaking himself is going to get him out of it. When he finally stops and tires himself out, he takes a look around to see where he’s at.

 

It’s a pretty nice room. 

 

It’s bleak and gray, but it’s clean. It smells of nothing and the dullness of the walls almost makes Jisoo want to cry. (You know, besides the fact that he’s been kidnapped by a psychopath.)

 

“You’re up.”

 

There’s a sound of a door clicking from somewhere behind Jisoo and he feels his ears tense up. 

 

“S-Seokjin?”

 

“That would be me.”

 

Seokjin makes himself known, by dragging a chair necessarily loudly through the room. He lets it slam down onto the floor and drops himself into the seat. 

 

He looks bored. 

 

“I’m not going to talk.” Jisoo bites his tongue. “So whatever you’re planning on doing, it’s not going t -”

 

“Oh, shut up.” Seokjin flaps a hand in the air and rolls his eyes. “Who said anything about you talking? I’m going to.”

 

 

“About what? I don’t want to hear what you have to say.”

 

Seokjin smiles. He places his elbow onto the armrest of his chair and leans his head against his fingers. “Close. I’m going to talk about you. About your past. Mysterious enough for you?” Seokjin wiggles his eyebrows and lets out a laugh. “I’m guessing that you don’t remember much?”

 

Jisoo bites the inside of his cheek so hard that he feels his blood spilling over his tongue in a thick coat. 

 

 

“What?”

 

Jisoo swallows his spit and he nearly gags at the metallic taste. It’s probably Jisoo’s state of unhealthiness and general nutrients deprivation, but it seems thicker and more sour than it should be.

 

“You were mine, first.”

 

Jisoo feels his blood run cold. 

 

“Shut up.”

 

Jisoo’s voice is weak and raspy and low and he tugs against the restraints again he feels like he’s going to fall apart. 

 

Why do I believe him?

 

Seokjin’s eyes can’t hide a lie. 

 

Everyone knows that. 

 

Jisoo suddenly feels his chest tighten and the back of his eyes feel like they’re on fire. 

 

 

“I’ll wait. I know how hard this must be for you.” Seokjin’s voice is a soft murmur against the thunderous roar of blood rushing through his head. “Jeonghan has no right over you. These marks, that you let him put on you, they mean nothing anymore. I’m the only one here for you.”

 

What the hell is Seokjin saying?

 

Jisoo squeezes his eyes shut and pulls against the restraints so hard he sees red start to stain his dirty white sleeve. The rope is ripping his skin raw and Jisoo can’t even feel it. He yanks so hard that his chair tips over and his head slams painfully hard onto the gritty, wooden floor. His fingers twitch because he wants to grab his head and stop the bleeding but obviously, he can’t. 

 

“Shut up. Shut up!” Jisoo’s yell is muffled by his swollen cheek and Seokjin kicks the back of his chair, sending shock waves of pure pain through his spine. “Why are you doing this! If you want revenge against Jeonghan, this isn’t the way to do it!”

 

Seokjin bends down and squats on his thighs. His hand reaches out and Jisoo thinks he’s going to be slapped across the cheek but all Seokjin does is push away a bloody clump of hair off his face. 

 

“You were mine. Do you understand what I had to do for you? To see you? To get you back?” Seokjin fully sits on the floor besides Jisoo’s face and leans in close. His hand moves from his hair to his chin and squeezes Jisoo’s neck painfully hard. “You won’t even let me explain?”

 

Jisoo tries to shake his head. “N-no, explain, you can e-xpla-in!” 

 

Jisoo lets out a tight cough and feels Seokjin’s fingernails dig into his cheek. 

 

“You were my brother.”

 

Jisoo can’t tell if it’s metaphorical or not. 

 

He can’t tell which one is worse. 

 

“H-huh?”

 

“You were mine, Jisoo. The things I had to do to get you back; God. Fuck.” Seokjin takes his hand off of Jisoo face and looks at him in a disgusted way. He wrings his wrist out and takes a step back. “And Jeonghan was the one to find you. Do you know what that did to me? Huh? I spent four years trying to make sure I could get you back. You’re not going anywhere.”

 

Something in Jisoo snaps. 

 

He starts thrashing and tugging at the restraints. His vision blurs together in a mess of black and white and gray and Seokjin kicks him in the ribs. 

 

Something thick hits his head and Jisoo keeps twitching, pulling, trying to get out. 

 

 

Seokjin sneers and Jisoo blacks out. 

 

-  
-

 

When Jisoo wakes up, he finds that he’s sprawled over the floor in the cell he was in earlier. His eyes crack open painfully and he can’t move much besides his eyeballs. He scans the room and starts to panic when he doesn’t see Seungcheol. 

 

“Jisoo.”

 

There’s a faint raspy whisper that comes from behind Jisoo and he takes his sweet time to sit up. The wall is actually pretty close to him, so Jisoo heaves himself up with gritted teeth to sit upright against the wall. 

 

Seungcheol’s leaning against the wall next to him, which is why Jisoo missed him the first time. 

 

It takes him a moment to comprehend. 

 

“Blood.”

 

Jisoo’s mouth can’t seem to form words very well. 

 

Seungcheol nods weakly. “I don’t know how much time I have left.”

 

 

Seungcheol clutches at his stomach, where his wound has reopened and is gushing like Niagra Falls. It spills like wine over his fingers, through his shirt, onto the dirty floor. 

 

It pools at his lap and Jisoo closes his eyes. 

 

He doesn’t want to see this happen. 

 

“Seungcheol.”

 

“I know.”

 

There’s a melancholy blanket of love and regret that smothers Jisoo. He can’t breathe. Seungcheol can’t die. 

 

He can’t. 

 

“I can’t do this without out.”

 

Jisoo finds tears pooling at the corners of his eyes and Seungcheol lets out a small laugh. 

 

“You can. And you will.”

 

A wet cough rattles through Seungcheol and Jisoo sniffles. 

 

“Please.”

 

 

“I love you.”

 

Jisoo opens his eyes and there’s a shiny look in Seungcheol’s eyes. They’re raw and they shake and Seungcheol smiles painfully, warping his already-marred face with a distorted smile. His lips crack and the blood won’t stop spilling and it’s reached his lips now. 

 

“I love you too.”

 

There’s a pressure that pushes against Jisoo’s hear that he can’t seem to shake. Seungcheol grows paler and paler by the minute and he can’t watch. 

 

Jisoo closes his eyes again. 

 

“I love you.”

 

Jisoo honestly can’t tell if he said it or if it was Seungcheol. 

 

There’s a small thud that echoes into Jisoo’s ears louder than a jackhammer. 

 

Jeonghan. 

 

Where are you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI EVERYONE!!!! 
> 
>  
> 
> sorry i was MIA for like a month!! i was finishing up summer research projects and papers and etc,, they took a bigger toll on me than I thought! mostly timewise but if you stay up for five days in a row with a total of eight hours of sleep and no solid food intake, you actually suffer quite a lot! im fighting off a major cold rn and i dont even know where i caught it so yay :(
> 
>  
> 
> the regular updates might be a little hard, as im rising to my next year of med school. ill of course update on fridays but they may become sporadic, but i will try my utmost best to update at least twice a month! 
> 
> also i have two more story ideas that i wanna start but like jeez we all know how thats going to end. sdfkjsl;djf
> 
>  
> 
> anyways, i hope that everyone reading this is having an amazing day and that you have me supporting you internally!!! yay!!! 
> 
>  
> 
> ps i didnt realize how much i loved doing a.n. until now klsjdf;sljs


	9. diabolus et peccatorum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the devil and his sins

How many days have passed now? 

 

Jisoo has lost count. 

 

There would be ways to measure. 

 

How long his hair has grown. 

 

The length of his fingers. 

 

Jisoo could have scratched at the wall with every passing day. 

 

There are ways. 

 

It’s just that Seokjin makes it very hard. 

 

For starters, Jisoo is forced to go through a full-body cleansing every single day. Each morning, two women dressed up in thick, cream-colored linens step into his cell and lead him down the hall into a makeshift sauna. At first, he vehemently fought against being stripped down and washed by two middle-aged maids, but he soon found it easier for him (and quite frankly, the two women,) if he just shut up and went with it. He gets a haircut every couple of days (he assumes) and his fingernails are cut regularly. (Presumably so he can’t hurt himself or others.)

 

He’s been moved to a different cell, too. It has four walls made of reinforced steel, a single cot, blanket, pillow, slippers, and a change of clothes identical to the one he wears. 

 

He’s like a prisoner. 

 

You can’t be tainted. 

 

Clean. 

 

That’s what he’s supposed to be. 

 

Jisoo lets out a measly sigh and draws his knees up to his chest and settles his chin on top of them. His reflection is glassy and warped on the steel wall across him and the cold metal presses awkwardly at his back. What time is it? How much longer until dinner? 

 

Is he even awake right now? What if this is all some kind of fever dream; his own subconsciousness torturing himself? 

 

He feels dirty. 

 

He’s so lonely. 

 

So tired. 

 

Jisoo closes his eyes and feels a sneeze tickle at his throat. He swallows past it and ignores the uncomfortable pressure in his sinuses. He feels like he’s going to ruin his silence if he sneezes. He’s going to ruin the thin veil of composure if he moves. 

 

How many days have passed now?

 

-  
-

 

“Stop picking at your food. It’s rude.”

 

Seokjin’s frown is deep and causes his brows to furrow into his skin. The fork he’s holding glints maliciously under the low light of candles around the room. Jisoo nods. 

 

“Sorry.”

 

Seokjin drugs the food. It makes Jisoo feel all tired and makes his head hurt. 

 

But he can’t not eat, so he resorts to eating as slowly and as little as possible. The rule is, he just has to stay at the table until Seokjin is finished, so stalling usually works if he doesn’t pay attention. 

 

“Jisoo. I say this every day but it’s for your own good. I’m protecting you right now. I’m helping you. You don’t understand what you’ve been through, but that’s okay. I’m here to give you your life back. Your memories. Yourself.”

 

He says the same shit everyday. Jisoo bites the inside of his cheek. 

 

“I know, hyung.” The last words comes out softly and rolls off of Jisoo’s tongue like a coin being forced into a slot while being held the wrong way. 

 

It just doesn’t work. 

 

But Seokjin throws fits if Jisoo refuses to acknowledge their relationship as “siblings” (something he still hasn’t confirmed to be a fact) and Jisoo doesn’t want to be beat into a bloody pulp by Seokjin’s angry fists so he sucks it up.

 

“Mhmm. The least you could be right now is thankful. I’ve saved you, you know. I’m okay with you hating me. At least you’re safe.”

 

Jisoo’s lips itch to ask a question he knows he shouldn’t. 

 

“Do you have proof?”

 

It’s a small whisper. 

 

Seokjin’s expression freezes. 

 

“Excuse me?” 

 

“I want proof. I want a DNA test. I want a photo. I want to see a record. I want something.” Jisoo’s hold on his fork grows tighter and the metal turns hot under his fingers. The edges press against his palm painfully but he knows he can’t break skin so he continues to press, press, press. 

 

Seokjin sets his jaw. Jisoo waits for the guards by the entrance of the dining room to grab him but nothing comes. 

 

“Alright.”

 

There’s a slight sneer in Seokjin’s voice, sharp and nasal and he’s obviously put on edge by the request but there’s no denial. Jisoo wonders if he wants it to be true or not. 

 

Which one is going to make me feel sicker?

 

“Thank you, hyung.”

 

Jisoo scoops up a messy pile of mashed potatoes and slips it into his mouth. His tongue floats above the slightly wet slop of food and he knows it’s because of whatever medicine that Seokjin’s mixed in. 

 

Potatoes aren’t supposed to taste tangy. 

 

“I’ll have you come to my office later. I’m leaving now.” Seokjin’s voice crackles into Jisoo’s ears from across the long table and Jisoo nods in acknowledgement. His stomach hurts all of a sudden. 

 

“Alright.”

 

Jisoo wants to see what his face looks like right now. 

 

Empty, probably. 

 

-  
-

 

As promised, the two women who are always doing Seokjin’s bidding come up to his cell a while after Jisoo returns to his room. He stops fiddling with the edge of his pillowcase and stands up when he sees the top of their heads come into view in the little window on his door. 

 

He’s brought to Seokjin’s office quickly. 

 

-  
-

 

He’s losing his mind. 

 

Jisoo has to get out of here. This place is killing him. 

 

Seokjin is killing him.

 

-  
-

Jeonghan’s POV

 

 

She doesn’t feel the same as his Jisoo, Jeonghan thinks. 

 

Every time they do this, that’s all he can think about. Their names are the same but she’s not his Jisoo. 

 

He has to pretend that he’s holding his Jisoo, the one who writhes under him like a captured animal, the one who stares at him like he’s the world, the one who begs him for more even if he doesn’t want to, even though really, he does. 

 

He wants his Jisoo, the one who he loves, the one who he hurts, the one who he needs. 

 

This Jisoo is not his Jisoo but he is not her Jennie either so it doesn’t matter. 

 

He traces a finger down the dip in her spine and feels her bone underneath her pale skin. 

 

His Jisoo is a bit tanner, a bit lither despite being a man. 

 

She’s too soft to hold onto. Her skin is supple in places where Jisoo isn’t. Her hips and her thighs aren’t as bony and thin as his Jisoo’s - he wants his own Jisoo, the one with a thin waist and legs that press up against Jeonghan almost painfully with how sharp they are.

 

Jisoo. Come back. 

 

The phone rings and Jeonghan gladly pulls away from Jisoo in order to take it. 

 

“Still thinking of him?” Jisoo’s mouth is curved in a smirk and her eyes hang dark. “Because I’m still thinking of her. I know you know that. I just decided it was necessary to say that. You should pick up.”

 

Her expression is exhausted. Jeonghan probably looks the same. 

 

Jeonghan glares and picks up the call. An unknown number. “Hello? You have Jeonghan.”

 

“I know that.” 

 

Jeonghan nearly drops the phone. 

 

“Seokjin?”

 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m just calling to say that you can come get Jisoo back. I don’t really need him anymore. Don’t be too mad. I didn’t hurt him. I was selfish in the past. I was wrong in the past. I’ll admit that. So this is my apology. Be here first thing in the morning. Bye.”

 

Seokjin hangs up before Jeonghan can answer and his phone hangs limp from his hands. That was so abrupt, so without warning, that Jeonghan needs to process for a bit. His head spins and his throat grows dry and he’s about to fall down when a hand reaches out and places itself firmly on his shoulder.

 

“What’s wrong?” Jisoo’s smirk has disappeared and her eyes are pulled down with concern. “Seokjin? Why did he call?”

 

Jeonghan looks up. His voice is hoarse and his hands are trembling. 

 

Oh. 

 

Jeonghan’s eyes start flickering around the room. 

 

He can’t mess this up. 

 

He’s going to. 

 

“He’s coming back.”

-  
-

Jisoo wakes up that morning tired and dreading the day, although, he doesn’t really need to wake up because he didn’t sleep. 

 

Seokjin wasn’t lying. 

 

He doesn't know how to process that. 

 

His neck and legs hurt like he’s been thrown around the ringer and he stands up slowly to try and stretch out his sore, no-longer-existent muscles. There’s a tap on the door that signals it’s time to go to the bathroom to get cleaned up for the day.

 

Jisoo wonders if he could drown himself in the sink. 

 

He’s so tired. 

 

The routine is mundane at best on other days, but today, the rhythmic scrub of soap against his skin makes him want to scream. The dark bags under his eyes look comical at this stage and the two women dressing him in simple clothes suddenly look like they could hurt Jisoo. 

 

He wants them to. Maybe he could convince them to strangle him or something. 

 

He doesn’t want to be here. 

 

“Mr. Kim requests that you meet him outside today. We will bring you to the front of the building. Please be prepared to listen to his instructions well. You will not be permitted to wear tight-fitting clothes or shoes.”

 

Jisoo nods. 

 

Why do my clothes matter? It’s not like I’ve been allowed to change before. 

 

He’s going outside today. 

 

The sun hasn’t touched Jisoo’s sallow skin for who knows how long. The way the outside air hits his skin makes him uncomfortable. He’s not used to it anymore, and when the breeze picks up and swirls underneath his shirt, he wraps his thin arms around himself to try and keep warm. 

 

Jisoo’s neck tingles. He wants to go home. 

 

This is your home now. 

 

It’s not. 

-  
-

 

Jisoo waits patiently at the bottom of the steps, but once a couple of minutes pass with no sign of a single soul in the lot, Jisoo starts to grow restless. The gravel under his socks start to poke into the soles of his feet and his head starts to grow warm from where the sun is beating down on him. 

 

He’s about to start milling around when the entrance to the building opens. 

 

“Jisoo!”

 

Jisoo turns his head around. Seokjin’s up on top of the staircase with his hands clasped behind his waist.Jisoo can’t break eye contact with Seokjin. It’s like he’s being made fun of. 

 

“I’m sorry, and tell Jeonghan that. Not really, but whatever. I didn’t hurt Jisoo. Well, that’s objective.” Seokjin laughs. “Don’t take it personally. I did this out of love. Don’t miss me too much.”

 

Seokjin unclasps his hands and a gun is visible. The black metal glints maliciously against the sun and Jisoo thinks that this is the end to some cruel joke that Seokjin’s been planning from the beginning. 

 

Fuck. 

 

So it’s just going to end like this? 

 

He’s just going to die like this? 

 

Jisoo can’t find it himself to run. 

 

What’s the point? 

 

He holds up the gun and Jisoo closes his eyes as the shot goes off. 

 

Boom. 

 

It’s a crackle that tickles Jisoo’s ears even though he’s got his palms pressed into them and slowly removes them when he realizes that nothing hurts. 

 

A warning shot?

 

Jisoo opens his eyes despite the fact that his heart’s jumping along his throat. 

 

Seokjin’s body crashes down the stairs, one stony step by stony step. 

 

Blood spills from Seokjin’s head and he doesn’t stop rolling and flipping until he hits the bottom, hand outstretched, neck bent at an awkward angle. Jisoo stares and stares and stares and stares and stares. There’s cuts and scratches that are scattered over his skin, with purple flushed under his wounds in the form of fresh bruises. He’s about two meters away from Jisoo’s feet but the blood doesn’t stop coming until it soaks Jisoo’s socks. He gags and takes a couple of steps backward, stumbling over sharp pebbles and pieces of gravel. 

 

Seokjin’s dead. 

 

Jisoo covers his mouth and dry heaves. 

 

Seokjin is dead. 

 

Oh. 

 

Oh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FUCKKKK IM CURSING IN MY NOTES BC IM ABSOLUTELY LOSING 
> 
> ORGANIC CHEMISTRY CAN DIE
> 
> LIKE OK FUCK
> 
> HOLY FUCKING SHIT I KNEW IT WAS GONNA BE HARD BUT LIKE 
> 
> WHY IS MY BRAIN STUPID
> 
> BIG STOOPID
> 
>  
> 
> LIKE OK RATIONALLY YOU JUST NEED TO GET THE BASICS, RIGHT, RIGHT??? WELL WHAT DO YOU DO WHEN THE BASICS DONT MAKE SENSE IN YOUR HEAD LMAO IM ACTUALLY GOING TO FAIL THIS CLASS I DONT WANT TO SOUND PRETENTIOUS BUT LIKE HOLY SHIT IVE NEVER CRIED SO FUCKING MUCH OVER A CLASS LMAO
> 
> ok thats it thank you for coming to my tedtalk. 
> 
> hope you guys enjoy !! this chapter!! finally we're moving!! and big oof for seokjin can we get an F in the comments to pay respects for our soldier below TT


	10. si te amo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> if i love you

_ Ha.  _

  
  


A breathy, uneven breath slips through Jisoo’s mouth. He quickly clamps his fingers over his lips, and a feeling of regret floods his stomach. 

  
  
  


It feels like he should have been quiet. 

  
  
  
  


Seokjin’s dead? 

  
  
  
  


No way. 

  
  
  
  


Jisoo clambers onto his knees; they can no longer hold his body up. He drops even closer to Seokjin’s mangled and bloody body and the reality is much,  _ much _ more -

  
  
  
  


Real-

  
  
  
  


Than it was a second ago. 

  
  
  
  


Jisoo can’t help but gag, but nothing spills over his lips because there’s nothing in his stomach. He has to check. 

  
  
  
  
  


He has to know. 

  
  
  


With shaking fingers, Jisoo reaches out and pushes a clump of red-soaked hair out of the way. Seokjin’s eye is still open, that much Jisoo can tell. The angle of Seokjin’s fell forced his limbs to jut out in weird places, face first and neck twisted to the side. 

  
  
  


Fuck. 

  
  
  


_ Oh fuck.  _

  
  
  


Jisoo gags again and presses his finger even harder into his lip, so hard that he feels the bone under his skin right up against his knuckles. 

  
  
  
  


“Hey, Jisoo, get up!”

  
  
  
  


_ That’s someone I know _ . 

  
  
  


Jisoo feels his eyes widen as two arms wrap around his waist and pull him up with a strong jerk. 

  
  
  


“H-huh?” Jisoo’s vision blurs with stray tears that line his eyes but it’s clear who it is. 

  
  
  
  


“Hey, Jisoo, focus, now’s not the time, we’ve got to get back to the c-”

  
  
  


“M-Mingyu,” Jisoo stutters, stumbling again when Mingyu lunges forward, without Jisoo’s body following. “I - S-Seokjin, h-he’s d-d-de-a- _ d _ , oh-”

  
  
  


“I know, I know. C’mon, Jisoo, we can talk later, but get  _ up _ !” Mingyu screams, yanking at Jisoo’s arm again. “The cars, let’s go!”

  
  
  
  


Jisoo nods. 

  
  
  


Right. 

  
  
  


Wait. 

  
  
  


Is this a rescue? 

  
  
  


How did he know to come here? 

  
  
  


Who drove him here? 

  
  
  


How did he know?

  
  
  


Is  _ he _ here with Mingyu?

  
  
  
  


His question is answered fairly quickly. 

  
  
  


But how did he know? 

  
  


As Mingyu and Jisoo sprint closer to the black vans parked on the curb of the building, Jeonghan runs out of the one furthest back.  _ Why are you running out of the car?  _ Jisoo wants to ask, but there’s no one to give his question, so he lets Mingyu tug him along.

  
  
  


As they pass each other, their eyes meet in a way that sends Jisoo reeling backwards. His cheeks, his neck, his chest, he feels them flush with some kind of unbearable heat. 

  
  
  


Jeonghan doesn’t look at him again, merely sprinting over to Seokjin’s dead body. 

  
  
  


Jisoo trips his way down the hill. 

  
  
  
  


His heart doesn’t stop jumping around in his chest, dancing and jerking awardkly against his ribcage. 

  
  
  


“The car Jisoo, get in!” Mingyu’s voice is a roar over the rush of blood that floods Jisoo’s ears. 

  
  
  


“Y-es.”

  
  
  


Jisoo lets himself get tossed into a car and Mingyu takes the responsibility of buckling them in. Jisoo decides to watch Jeonghan through the window. He’s patting down Seokjin’s body as if it doesn’t matter that his brain matter leaks onto the cracks of the pavement under him, as if doesn’t matter that thick trails of blood drip off of stairs wherever he hit them, as if it doesn’t matter that the only man in the whole world who could  _ possibly _ have helped them, is now dead. 

  
  
  


Suddenly, Jeonghan’s head swivels upwards and his eyes grow wide. 

  
  
  
  


Mingyu turns around to see what Jisoo’s waiting for. 

  
  
  
  


“Hey, what’s going on w-”

  
  
  
  


They get their answer. 

  
  
  


The ground starts to tremble as if it’s angry, like it’s trying to redirect its anger back up to the surface. It starts as a slow shake that starts to rock the car back and forth a bit and Jeonghan nearly falls over from his squat. He stands up and starts heading back to the car. Jisoo’s confused.

  
  
  


Korea doesn’t really get that many earthquakes - 

  
  
  


The backside of the building explodes into an inferno of smoke and ashes and concrete and fire. 

  
  
  


It sounds like a volcano going off; a deep rumbling that comes from the core of the earth with violent thundering that echoes through Jisoo’s ears. It feels like the inside of his head is starting to split apart with how loud it gets. The explosion faces the other direction of the valley that the building is situated in, so Jeonghan’s not close enough to be physically maimed by it. He makes a run for the van when he feels the ground shake again. His palms are pressed into his ears and his face scrunches up in a painful grimace. 

  
  
  
  


Mingyu’s already thrown the car door open. 

  
  
  
  


“Get in, get in!” Mingyu clambers over the car seat and launches himself into the driver’s seat, already revving up the engine and waiting for Jeonghan to slide in with an unceremonious bump on the head right against the roof of the car. 

  
  


Jisoo watches as a million particles of debris flicker and dance through the air, raining down soot and ash back onto the ground. They look like black snowflakes. The flames that start to engulf the building roar and lick at the sky, burning bright red and orange and smoke spreads out over the open grass that surrounds the building like a bubble has been popped.

 

“Fuck, Mingyu, the whole building’s gonna blow. Get the guys to drive out, the ground’s already shaking again!”

  
  
  
  


Jisoo feels the earth rumble underneath him (namely, the car) and then Mingyu’s speeding off. The road is still gravelly and not very paved, so the van ricochets off of the rough cement and dirt like a rubber band being shot against a plastic surface. 

  
  
  


The rest of the building crumbles on top of itself and Jisoo can’t help but feel his chest tighten to the point where he can no longer breathe normally. 

  
  
  
  


There were people in that building.

  
  
  
  


-

-

  
  


It’s a long drive back home to Jeonghan’s headquarters. 

  
  
  


Jisoo dozes in and out of his sleep, too tired from weeks (months?) of being stuck in his stupid little cell, too tired from not being able to wash off Seungcheol’s metaphorical blood off of his hands, too tired from sitting behind the man that lied about Jisoo’s whole past, his whole  _ life _ , to really be able to stay conscious for more than a couple of minutes at a time. So he lets himself nod in and out of a hazy state until he passes out completely. 

  
  
  


Something pokes at Jisoo’s shoulder. 

  
  
  
  


“Mhmm?” Jisoo blinks his eyes open and slowly pull himself up. His neck is sore from the awkward angle he’s been sleeping in, but Jeonghan’s sudden presence is more than enough to make him sit up straight in his seat. 

  
  
  


“Hey. We’re here. Everyone headed in already.”

  
  
  


Jeonghan swallows and makes a face like he’s trying to get a spoonful of sand down his throat. His voice is rough and his neck shines with a thin sheen of sweat. 

  
  
  


“J-Jeonghan.”

  
  
  
  


“You can get out of the car now.” Jeonghan’s voice sounds torn apart. It’s rough and worn out and raspy and Jisoo wishes he could just die listening to it. 

  
  
  
  


Jisoo can’t get up. 

  
  
  


He physically  _ cannot _ move his body any more than he’s already moved it. 

  
  
  


His hands and knees start to tremble uncontrollably and Jisoo wants to say something, he wants to say  _ anything _ , like, “ok”, or maybe even just a little nod that signals to Jeonghan that he  _ understands _ what he’s being told but he can’t, Jisoo  _ can’t _ , because he can’t stop shaking like he’s broken and he can’t do anything because he’s broken, because he’s broken, he’s broken. 

  
  


Knowing that he’s back under Jeonghan’s jurisdiction for good is a weight that he suffocates under. It’s too much to deal with at once and Jisoo doesn’t know where to direct this sudden burst of  _ feeling _ under his cracked exterior. 

  
  


So he starts crying. 

  
  
  


It’s a slow-motion kind of thing, with Jisoo not realizing that tears are spilling over his eyes faster than he can stop them, Jisoo’s not even sobbing, he’s just crying, but then he starts letting out ugly wails that don’t stop. His fists ball up hard and his nails press little crescents into his palms and his shoulders start shaking so hard that he can feel his teeth knock into each other and then something, no, it’s  _ someone _ , is holding him. 

  
  
  


God. 

  
  
  


There’s a new emptiness in Jisoo’s heart, something that he’s never felt before. Something that Jisoo thinks could kill him. 

  
  
  
  


“Jisoo.” Jeonghan presses Jisoo’s chin into the crook of his own neck and Jisoo can’t tell if the wetness on his lips is from his own tears or if it’s Jeonghan’s sweat, but whatever it is, it’s salty and tastes like absolute despair. “You’re with me now.”

  
  
  
  


Seokjin shot himself. 

  
  
  
  


Jisoo had to see Seokjin fall down three flights of stone stairs and shatter every fucking bone in his body. 

  
  
  
  


Fuck. 

  
  
  
  


Jeonghan lied. 

  
  
  
  


Seokjin told him the truth. 

  
  
  
  


Seungcheol’s dead. 

  
  
  


So’s Jisoo. 

  
  
  
  


Jisoo sobs even harder into Jeonghan’s shoulder when he realizes that this is the first time he doesn’t want to be next to Jeonghan. 

  
  
  


-

-

  
  


Two hours in a hot bath later, and Jisoo still feels just as dirty as he was before. Jeonghan had carried him bridal style, all the way into the building and into his own room. Even in the elevator, even up all the stairs, even into the bathroom itself. Every person in the building had looked down in a silent bow as Jisoo was paraded down the hallways like he was some kind of fallen soldier that had been found half-dead in war.

  
  
  


The reality was, they were murmuring thanks to a man dressed in nothing but a thin t-shirt and rough linen pants, hardly anything decorative. They’re sending prayers up to God for a hollow and thin and utterly empty human. 

  
  
  


Everyone acts like Jisoo’s a martyr. 

 

 

Jisoo snaps out of his daze and is, for some reason, letting Jeonghan slowly dry his hair with a towel in front of the vanity. Jisoo stares at himself as Jisoo silently works through his wet locks. 

  
  
  


His eyes are dead; the chocolate brown shine of them now replaced with a dull glare. He’s lost more weight than he’s realized; his cheekbones and his collar bones jut out like sharp obsidian rocks against silk, his skin is an ashy, ghostly pale shade of sickly yellow. The thick hoodie and warm sweats that are on him hang off of his bones like a paper bag thrown over a thin pole. 

  
  
  


“Jisoo.”

  
  
  


Jeonghan drops the towel and places a hand under Jisoo’s chin, pushing upwards and forcing Jisoo to look up at him. He’s upside down but still as beautiful as ever. The scent of whiskey no longer hangs off of him like a cloud. 

  
  
  


Jisoo wonders why that upsets him. 

  
  


_ Why did you have to change? _

  
  


Jisoo closes his eyes because he decides that he can’t really bring himself to look at Jeonghan right now, but the small touch of his fingertips against his face makes him want to melt right into the floor. 

  
  
  
  


“Please touch me, Jeonghan.”

  
  
  
  


Jisoo doesn’t know why he said that. 

  
  
  
  


But he needs  _ something _ . 

  
  
  


He’s devoid of everything right now; there’s no emotion that swims through his heart.

  
  
  
  


Jisoo just needs to  _ feel _ . 

  
  
  
  


“Jisoo.” Jeonghan breathes his name out like a secret and removes his hand from Jisoo’s chin. He misses the touch and immediately wishes that Jeonghan was closer. “You’re hurt. You need to get better.”

  
  
  


Jisoo stands up rather harshly and the chair that he’s been sitting on topples over with a muted crash onto the carpeted floor.

 

Jeonghan gives him a worried look, but the thing is, all Jisoo can see it as is an uninterested glance that says,  _ I found someone new. I don’t need you anymore _ . 

  
  


“I’m not dirty, I swear!” There’s an inexplicable panic that threatens to throw Jisoo in a fit again. “Jeonghan, I didn’t do anything with him. I didn’t, I didn’t! I swear, I’d never, I couldn’t, please,  _ please _ , you can’t leave me like this. I- ” Jisoo sucks in a wet breath and lets out a sob. “F-fuck, Jeonghan, I-I’m not dirty, I s-sw-wear!”

  
  
  


Jeonghan eyes muddle over with an emotion that Jisoo can’t place. Pity? Sympathy? 

  
  
  


He can’t tell. 

  
  
  


“Oh, Jisoo, I never said that. You’re hurt. You need to get better. We can do whatever you want when you- ”

  
  
  


Jisoo grabs Jeonghan’s arm and squeezes his wrist. Jeonghan looks shocked but makes no move to pull away. Jisoo draws in as close as he can without actually touching Jeonghan. “Oh. You’re being nice again.” Jisoo’s voice is deadpan. He feels the lack of energy behind it. “This is a dream. Jisoo, wake  _ up _ !” Jisoo hisses, looking down at his hands. 

  
  
  


He’s not falling for this again. 

  
  
  


Jeonghan gently pushes Jisoo’s hand off of himself and gives him a sad smile. “This isn’t a dream, Jisoo. I’m here. I’m being nice because you’re recovering. I’m not going to push you.”

  
  


Jisoo feels his lip tremble. “I’m not. I’m not hurt. Stop acting like I survived a war.”

  
  
  


“Fine, okay. But I’m not pushing you to do anything y- ”

  
  
  


“Hey, hey! You’re not  _ pushing _ me to do  _ anything _ .” Jisoo takes a step backwards and almost trips against the chair that’s fallen behind him. Jeonghan grabs him and pulls him up. “Don’t you  _ get it _ ? I just - I just need to  _ feel _ something again, Jeonghan. Fuck.  _ Fuck _ . Do you  _ understand _ , Jeonghan, what it felt like in there? To have to live like a puppet, to see Seungcheol die in front of my eyes, to see the way Seokjin acted during his tantrums? I just need to  _ feel something _ . If it’s not you, I’ll just leave.” 

  
  


Jisoo’s words are venomous for no reason. His eyes sting with tears again. 

  
  


He doesn’t want someone else. 

  
  
  


Jeonghan closes the small gap in between their bodies and presses a light kiss into Jisoo’s shaking lips. “Okay. Okay, Jisoo. I get it. Breathe in a bit, okay?”

  
  
  


_ Oh _ . 

  
  
  


This feeling. 

  
  
  


The tumbling and crashing in his heart, his stomach, his mind, the way his nerves bundle and tighten up against themselves, the way his fingers start to curl into Jeonghan’s arms, the way his knees buckle and the way Jeonghan holds onto Jisoo’s waist before he can stumble again. 

  
  


Their kiss starts off innocent, with quiet touches and a rediscovery of how they feel against each other. 

  
  
  


But then their slow, tentative kiss slowly grows into a hungry, pulsing heat that threatens to eat Jisoo alive. Teeth knock together with clicks and Jeonghan’s tongue slips into Jisoo’s mouth with thick heat and makes Jisoo unable to control his moan. It slips through his throat and Jeonghan takes the opportunity to lead Jisoo to the bed. 

  
  
  


They crash onto the mattress in a painful tangle of limbs and Jeonghan never breaks the kiss once, merely pressing harder and harder until Jisoo sees stars burst underneath his eyelids. 

  
  
  


Jisoo cries harder for some reason. 

  
  
  


Jeonghan stops working the hoodie off of Jisoo’s torso and sits up, shifting his weight off of Jisoo’s body. 

  
  
  


“Do you want to stop? Don’t push you-”

  
  
  


“Wh-why are you b-being n-ni-ice to m- _ me _ ?” Jisoo stutters over his words and struggles to suck in a proper breath. His legs are splayed open and straddled around Jeonghan’s waist and his hoodie’s already ridden so far up that his whole chest exposed but he can’t find the embarrassment in that. His back feels hot against the mattress and Jeonghan holds onto Jisoo’s leg like he’s been frozen in time. What’s wrong with him right now? Is his brain that messed up? He’s crying, then he’s screaming, then he’s begging and then screaming again and now he’s going to have the audacity to  _ act shy _ ? 

 

Fuck. Jisoo doesn’t know how to control himself. He blames it on having not been allowed to  _ express _ anything but fake sincerity to Seokjin up until now.

  
  


Jeonghan lets out a ragged breath and drops to his side so he’s pressed up against Jisoo’s left arm. Jeonghan puts his arm up so he can place his head on it like a little pedestal and looks at Jisoo’s face. His legs knot together with Jisoo’s as he adjusts their position so they’re lying side by side. 

  
  
  


“Because. I got you back.”

  
  


Jisoo closes his eyes. “You could have had anyone.”

  
  
  


“But I didn’t  _ want _ anyone.”

  
  
  


Jisoo wants to tell Jeonghan that he loves him. He won’t. But he wants to. 

  
  


“Liar.”

 

“Not lying.”

  
  


“Why.” It’s not even a question - it’s a  _ demand _ to know. Jisoo feels his throat tightening with anxiety. 

  
  


“Because I got you back. That’s it. I don’t need anyone else.”

  
  


“Stop.” Jisoo’s voice is barely above a whisper and he pushes himself up with his elbows so he’s sitting upright. “Don’t say things like that.”

  
  


Jisoo can hear Jeonghan flopping onto his back. “Why not?”

  
  


Ah. 

  
  


Fuck. 

  
  


Jisoo literally has nothing left to lose. 

  
  


“Do you know what I think of when you say those kinds of things? Whenever you’re kind to me once in a while, whenever you tell me that I’m an important person in your life, whenever you hint to me that I’m not completely fucking useless to you? Do you know what that does to me?” Jisoo feels his heart constrict on top of himself. He kind of wants to shut up right now but his mouth goes faster than his brain. “It gives me something stupid, Jeonghan, it gives me hope. The whole time I was stuck in there with Seokjin, I just kept thinking, oh, Jeonghan’s going to come, right? He’s not leaving me behind, right? I need to hold on, just for a  _ little  _ bit more, because Jeonghan’s going to save me. That’s the only thing that kept me from asking Seokjin to kill me. That was the  _ only _ thing.”

  
  


“Of course I would have gone back to get you, Jisoo. I don’t leave my people behind like that. You know better than anyone.”

 

“But  _ do  _ I? I was gonna do it that day, Jeonghan. When Seokjin woke me up, when I saw him  _ again _ instead of you, I was ready to beg him to just  _ please _ end my misery. And then you were  _ there _ again, but that was after I saw what you did to me, what I saw you do.”

  
  


“I-I’m not following. You saw me? Before?”

  
  


“N-no, no! I mean, fuck! Fuck, I don’t know! Seokjin showed me a clip of some video he had saved from a security camera. From twelve years ago. Before my accident.”

  
  


Jeonghan pales. Jisoo sits up and wraps his arms around his knees, completely moving away from Jeonghan’s touch. He bunches up the blanket that’s within arm's reach over himself like a shield. 

 

“He told you?” Panic seems to flash through Jeonghan’s eyes. 

 

“Yeah. And you know what?”

  
  


“What?”

  
  


“Even after that, even after knowing what you did to me?” Jisoo laughs as he catches the tears falling from his face. They dampen his palms and the grey blanket wrapped around him. “I still need you. I still love you.”

 

“You love me?”

 

Jisoo bites his lip but he can’t stop the distorted laugh that slips through. It’s on the verge of a sob but Jisoo thinks it’s funny, in a way. He finally did it. He finally said it. 

 

What’s he expecting? Jisoo sighs and lets go of the blankets so he can get off the bed. 

 

“Yeah. I guess I’m just that pitiful.”

 

“You love me?”

 

Jisoo rolls his eyes and stands up. “Jeonghan.”

 

“Don’t leave me.”

 

“I’ve embarrassed the shit out of myself and got rejected. I think I’m gonna.”

 

“No.”

 

“You can’t do anything about it, Jeonghan. Sorry for burdening you. I’ll continue to do my work. Just pretend like you don’t know. I won’t say I’ll get over it. Maybe. I don’t know. My brain hurts.”

 

Jeonghan clambers out of his daze and snatches up Jisoo’s wrist before he can move further away from the bed. He sits on the edge of the bed and Jisoo stands in between his legs.

 

“You’re not leaving me. Again.” Jeonghan yanks him in and Jisoo lets out a yelp as Jeonghan hugs his midsection with crushing intensity. Tight arms clasp him and Jeonghan’s  _ shaking underneath  _ Jisoo, but his hug grows more and more vice-like by the second. “Why do you always do this? Why do you always make yourself hurt? You  _ want _ me to say yes, but you don’t actually want to deal with what happens if I do, right? You  _ want _ to be with me, but you’re scared of actually doing anything about it. You  _ want _ to be with me, but now that you have the opportunity, you think you liked it better when it was just a wish? Are you scared? Is that it?”

  
  


Jisoo feels his stomach grow wet. 

 

Jeonghan’s crying. 

 

Jisoo forgot how powerfully psychoanalytical Jeonghan was. 

 

“Yeah. I’m scared.”

 

“Fuck. I’m not letting you leave me again.” Jeonghan’s hands claw at Jisoo’s hoodie, like he’s trying to physically rip off the fabric to get to his skin. “Stay with me. Please. I love you, too, Jisoo. In my godforsaken life of nothing but needing to stay alive, you’re the only one that actually makes me  _ feel _ like I’m living. You said Seokjin told you. Then you know that this wouldn’t be our first time together. That you were mine. You were  _ mine _ before, but then I lost you, but now I have you back. So too bad. I don’t care if you’re scared. Get over it. Be with me again. Be mine again. I’ll be yours. I’ll do anything, Jisoo. Just. You can’t leave me  _ again _ .”

 

Jisoo drops his forehead so it’s resting on top of Jeonghan’s soft hair. He closes his eyes. They stay like that for what seems like an eternity, with Jisoo just standing there in front of Jeonghan, who’s crying into his torso. Jisoo likes the feeling of Jeonghan’s hair tickling his nose and the scent of clean soap mingling in with faint hints of cigarette smoke makes him feel like he’s somewhere he’s meant to be. 

 

Finally, Jisoo decides to move. 

  
  


With shaking fingers, Jisoo gently places his hands on the sides of Jeonghan’s face as lightly as he can and makes him look up. Jisoo’s still caged in by Jeonghan’s thighs, which he doesn’t really mind. Jeonghan still holds onto Jisoo’s waist but he looks up unabashedly, full eye contact and everything. His long lashes stick together with crystalline tears dripping along the edges of his eyes. Jeonghan doesn’t look at all upset that Jisoo’s staring at him while he’s crying. 

  
  


“I’m still scared.” Jisoo places his forehead on Jeonghan’s so they’re nose to nose, with each other’s breathes tickling one another every time they move. Jisoo squeezes his eyes shut and feels the thrum of Jeonghan’s heartbeat with the way his fingers are placed; his pinky and ring fingers rest right on top of Jeonghan’s throat while the other three are splayed out over his soft cheeks. “But I’m tired of feeling that way.”

  
  


“Jisoo.”

  
  


Jisoo swallows with the way Jeonghan says his name. Soft, like he’s scared of breaking Jisoo. Solid, like he’s trying to convey that he’s not backing down. 

 

Jisoo’s voice is a mere whisper of air when he talks. “I don’t care if you hurt me. I don’t care if I have to be broken and torn apart and reshaped and remade. Just let me be with you, please.  _ You’re my only end. _ ” 

  
  
  


Jisoo’s so sick of himself, for being weak and whiny and desperate. 

  
  
  


If saving himself means that he has to stay besides Jeonghan, then so be it.  

  
  


“ _ Jisoo _ .”

 

_ Wreck me.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FRICKLLEEYYY FRACKELLEYYY this was one long chapter. angsty. damn. also just to be clear, i left specific parts of the chapter a bit blurry, like seokjin's death and what jisoo learned, etc. its just to help build the suspense, but i just dont want anyone to get mixed up!
> 
> and also !! guess who started a new fic bc she has nooooo sense of self control 😘😘😘 ill probably post after this fic or "a rose by any other name" just so i dont start a story and not work on it for like a million years. 
> 
> anywho, thank you so much for all of your supports, i swear my heart goes BABOOOMMM every time. 
> 
> also i wanna start a series of just like oneshots and drabbles with random ships, themes, whathever, but im lacking in creativity atm so many that's gonna happen? but idk? also YEaH okay im rambling. 
> 
>  
> 
> hope you enjoyed this chapter and as always, i can't wait to hear what you guys think!!! please stay safe and happy and healthy and its getting cold as frick up in this joint so stay warm!! i command it!! thiqque jackets, please!


	11. in quo iacebat et nos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where we lay

Ten years ago. 

 

-

-

  
  


Jeonghan steps into the hospital room, accompanied by a doctor he doesn’t remember the name of and a nurse who stands awkwardly by his side. The doctor says something to Jeonghan, which he doesn’t hear, and goes to fix something on the monitor besides the bed. Jeonghan looks at the nurse quickly through the corner of his eye and wonders why her face is so fucking  _ annoying _ . 

  
  


Dark hair, glossy skin, slightly thin, yet puffed out lips. Long lashes fluttering around her wide eyes. A slim build. 

  
  


Jeonghan rolls his neck around and suppresses the urge to kick her out. He keeps an eye on her, deciding what he doesn’t like about her.  

  
  


Her hair isn’t the right shade of brown. Her skin is too pale to be considered pretty to Jeonghan and her lips are too sharp at the cupid’s bow to look natural. Her eyelashes are long, sure, but they aren’t a full fan that open around her eyes, and she’s still not  _ as _ skinny as she looks. 

 

Right. She’s not pretty to him at all. 

  
  


“What’s your name, ma’am?”

  
  


Of course, Jeonghan already knows the name to this question. 

  
  


The nurse flushes, like she’s not used to people talking to her, and her eyes averty down to the ground. “Ah, um, Kim Jisoo, sir.”

  
  


Huh. 

  
  


That’s even more fucking  _ annoying _ . The way she says her name gristles Jeonghan’s nerves. Even though Jeonghan  _ knew _ that was her name, even though Jeonghan  _ knew _ that she would say it.

  
  


What right does she have, saying that name? 

  
  


Jeonghan tilts his head with pretend curiosity. “You look very young. But you’re already in charge of this floor?”

  
  


“Well, I don’t think I’m old enough to be called  _ ma’am _ yet, but yes. I’m already in charge of this floor.” 

  
  


Ah. 

  
  


Her voice grows clipped. 

  
  


She’s defensive about her job, it seems. 

  
  


“Jisoo. Kim, Jisoo? I thought your surname was Lee -”

  
  


“Come with me.” Claws dig into Jeonghan’s arms and drag him out of the room and into the hallway. Jeonghan smiles to himself. He didn’t think he’d get a reaction so quick. 

  
  
  


Jisoo’s eyes are glowing underneath him. She’s shorter than she looks, it seems, because the top of her head could barely graze his chin. 

  
  


“Who are you?” Jisoo, the  _ fake _ Jisoo, asks. Her voice is absolutely  _ dripping _ with poison and her nails don’t relax their grip on Jeonghan’s forearm. “Are you here to threaten me? I thought I’ve made it  _ clear _ that stuff like that doesn’t fly by me anymore. I’m not a part of that game anymore.”

  
  


Jeonghan smiles and reaches out to brush back a strand of her hair behind her ears. It’s a formality. 

  
  


No, it’s something else. 

  
  


It’s a signal. 

  
  


_ Hear me out _ . 

  
  


Jeonghan leans into her ears and Jisoo’s grip only grows tighter and tighter. It’s annoying because she won’t let  _ go  _ of him, and he doesn’t like people touching him if it isn’t  _ him _ .

 

“I don’t think you’re gonna be saying the same thing once you hear what I have to say.” Jeonghan pulls back but keeps his hand behind her head. “Help me get him out of this hospital and I’ll help you find Jennie. Or whatever her name is. I don’t really  _ know _ .”

  
  


The vice-like pressure on Jeonghan’s arm suddenly disappears and he’s no longer touching her hair. 

  
  


Jisoo’s collapsed onto the floor, with her dress inappropriately splayed out and her fingers twitching at her side. 

 

Jeonghan takes a bored peak to see if there’s anything interesting under her uniform but finds himself disappointed to take a glimpse at nothing but black briefs. He sighs and slips off his jacket. 

 

He gets the mental of  _ his _ Jisoo dressed up all pretty for him, with red cheeks and averted eyes because he gets shy easily, lace over his skin and silk tied around his wrists 

 

Jeonghan bites his tongue.  _ Fuck _ . He’s gonna have to invest in a nurse’s uniform. 

  
  


“Do everyone a favor and keep yourself decent if you’re not hiding something fun down there.” Jeonghan throws his jacket on top of her and starts to walk back towards the room. He tries his hardest to keep a straight face. 

  
  


Jisoo’s gonna call out to him in, 

  
  


_ Three.  _

  
  


_ Two.  _

 

_ O- _

  
  


“Wait!”

  
  


Called it. 

  
  
  


Jeonghan turns around. 

  
  


“Yes?”

  
  


He can practically feel his cheek muscles straining under the weight of not wanting to erupt in an evil smile. 

  
  


“I’ll do it.” Jisoo’s voice, surprisingly, doesn’t waver. If anything, it sounds more hardened and determined that Jeonghan thought was possible in a situation like this. “Do you promise you’ll do your part?”

  
  


Jeonghan cocks his head. “You don’t know who I am, do you?”

  
  


“No. I don’t.” Jisoo balls up her hands into tight fists. “But if you know about Jennie, it means your not a random street pusher that I can just get rid of.”

  
  


Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “Whatever. I’ll make sure you’ll be taken care of until Jennie is found.”

  
  


“Do you know if she’s safe?”

  
  


Jeonghan nearly chokes with utter repulsion. “You’re pathetic. She’s a runaway-turned-stripper who betrayed one of the biggest crime groups out there and you think she’s  _ safe _ ?” The last word comes out bitter and harsh and sharp and Jeonghan  _ loves _ the feeling of watching Jisoo’s face crumble right in front of him. Her face scrunches up as if she can conceal her tears with a mere grimace. “I don’t know. If she’s safe or not. I know she’s alive, though, which is all you need to know in order to your job. Get him  _ out of here _ .”

  
  


“She didn’t start - ” Jisoo pauses while she searches for the right word to use. “- she didn't dance for others because she wants to. You have  _ no _ idea what I’ve seen her go th-”

  
  


Jeonghan laughs and holds up a hand. “Oh, on the contrary. I’ve heard quite enough. Is that what she told you? Is that what you believe? Or, is it, that you  _ met _ her while she was up on the stage, all pretty looking for everyone? Or was it a private dance? Did you pay her? Or did she give you a special? Lee Jisoo. Rich, powerful, strong, backed up by a conglomerate family. Kim Jisoo. Poor, unknown, weak, is nothing but a fake working at a hospital in some rundown countryside town somewhere in Korea. Funny, isn’t it?”

  
  


Jisoo looks like she wants to absolutely rip Jeonghan’s throat into shreds, which is precisely  _ why _ he says it. 

  
  


She doesn’t move. “Meet me here in four hours. I have no doubt you have nothing better to do than to wait for him to wake up? Which may or may not happen.  _ Tragic _ , isn’t it?”

 

Jeonghan feels his teeth break skin as he sinks his inscors into his cheek.

  
  


Touché.

 

-

-

 

Jeonghan gets cleared by the doctor (still, no idea what his name is) to go inside the hospital room, so that’s exactly what he plans on doing. 

 

He closes the door behind him and feels his stomach tighten when he looks at the bed. 

  
  


“Jisoo.” The name leaves Jeonghan’s lips like a lie, a ghost of a person that doesn’t exist anymore. “I know you’re probably sleeping right now. But I just wanted to talk to you, I guess.” 

 

Jeonghan takes a couple of steps closer and takes a seat on the chair by Jisoo’s bed. It’s uncomfortably soft and he can’t seem to sit upright properly. He wants to take Jisoo’s hand in his own, just for a little bit, but the IV tubes are sticking out of his thin arms so violently that Jeonghan doesn’t want to risk hurting him further. 

  
  


“Nobody knows where we are right now, you know. Do you want to know where you are? I guess you do. You hate not knowing. That’s also probably why you got yourself into this mess in the first place. This is Korea, Jisoo. You’re still home. The countryside, but still. You said you like when you can see the stars at night, so I brought you here.” Jeonghan scrubs the tears off of his face and refuses to sniffle. That would be like he’s admitting to everyone he’s  _ crying _ . “So far, you’ve been sleeping for three weeks and two days. And I’ve been trying to visit everyday, but sometimes the doctors rush in and say that no one’s allowed in. So if you feel lonely, it’s because of them. You can blame the hospitals.”

  
  


Jisoo still lies motionless on the bed. Jeonghan stands up so he can pull the blanket up around Jisoo’s neck a bit more. The night wind gets chilly sometimes, seeping through the cracks of the building and settling into the corners of Jeonghan’s bones. 

  
  


He’d hate for Jisoo to be cold. 

  
  


Fuck. 

  
  


He’s crying so much that he can’t see. Jeonghan shakily pulls the Sharpie marker that he’s been carrying around all day and opens up the lid. Taking Jisoo’s hand in his own, Jeonghan brings the marker down over Jisoo’s palm and quickly scrawls his message. 

  
  


_ I love you _ . 

  
  


“I should have just told you.” Jeonghan doesn’t want to wet Jisoo’s hand with his tears. “I should have just.  _ Told you _ . About Seokjin. Your dad. Me. You.”

  
  


_ I should have told you _ . 

  
  


_ I love you.  _

  
  


_ Do you hate me? _

  
  


_ I would die if you did, Jisoo.  _

  
  


_ Jisoo.  _

  
  


_ Jisoo.  _

  
  
  


_ Jisoo.  _

  
  
  


_ Jisoo.  _

  
  


_ I’m sorry I left you.  _

  
  


_ Don’t leave me.  _

  
  


_ Please. _

-

-

  
  


“So. What’s the standard process for this?”

  
  


Jeonghan taps his foot impatiently against the floor and crosses his arms so he can hide his twitchiness. Jisoo is waiting by the closed door already, and it takes every single ounce of self-restraint in Jeonghan’s body to  _ not _ push past her and burst into the room. 

  
  


“Uh, change of plans.”

  
  


“What happened?”

  
  


“He woke up.”

  
  


Jeonghan nearly throws  _ himself _ into a coma right then and there. 

  
  


“A-w-wake?”

  
  


“Yeah. I went in to change his head dressings and there he was, awake and ready to run out. He was shaking all over like Bambi.” Jisoo gives him a mirthless chuckle. “I kinda get his appeal. You know, why you want him back so bad. He’s got a vibe, you know? Like you have to take care of him, like if he gets hurt, it’s your fault.”

  
  


“S-shut up. I don’t care!” Jeonghan screams, which sends Jisoo flinching backwards. “G-get me in the room, right now.  _ Move! _ ”

  
  


Jeonghan lunges towards the door, but Jisoo flings herself across it and puts her arms out so he can’t get through. 

  
  


“Hey, no! Stay back!”

  
  


“Jisoo’s awake! Move! Move, before I  _ kill _ you!” Jeonghan roars, desperate to tear Jisoo off of the door but also scared of touching her because if he does, he might snap. 

  
  


He might actually lose it. 

  
  


“No, Jeonghan, I can’t! Look at me!” Jisoo grabs onto Jeonghan’s elbows, which, oh  _ boy _ , is a really fucking dangerous move because Jeonghan literally will throw them  _ both _ out the window at the end of the hallway. “Hey, Jeonghan! Snap  _ out of it! _ ”

  
  


Except he  _ can’t _ . 

  
  


Every repressed bit of anger and anxiety and despair rips through Jeonghan’s body, it  _ drowns  _ him, it fills him up and empties him, over and over and over like a wave of absolute and complete  _ lost _ -ness, like nighttime without the night, like he’s just darkness without the dark, so he’s left with  _ whatever _ . 

  
  


He feels himself, no,  _ no _ , he can  _ see _ himself - 

  
  


He’s throwing the door down. 

  
  


He feels his fists slamming into wood that proves to be weak, splintering after a couple of Jeonghan’s hardest punches. Jisoo, the fake one, the  _ disgusting one _ , is screaming and sobbing as if she  _ understands _ what Jeonghan’s feelings, as if she could  _ comprehend _ the ferocity that Jeonghan is feeling, that emptiness again, that rage again. 

  
  


_ Stop it! _

  
  


He can’t tell if he’s thinking it or if it’s Jisoo crying out from behind him. 

  
  


_ Stop it! Please, it’s so loud, please, I’m scared, I’m scared! _

  
  


Jeonghan’s scared too. 

  
  


_ What’s happening, please, stop! I’m scared, don’t touch me, please, don’t touch me! _

  
  
  


Oh?

  
  


Jeonghan’s clutching onto someone’s hands but they aren’t his own. 

  
  


He looks up. 

  
  
  


_ “ _ Please, stop, don’t touch me! _ ” _

  
  


It’s not in his head anymore. 

  
  
  


Jisoo,  _ Jeonghan’s Jisoo,  _ not the girl scrambling around outside screaming for help, it’s  _ Jeonghan’s _ person.

  
  


And Jeonghan’s holding him right now. 

  
  


Oh, but something’s not right. 

  
  


“Jisoo, it’s me, it’s me! We’re gonna get you out of here, oh my  _ God _ , I can’t believe you finally woke up -”

  
  


“Please, get off me -” Jisoo whines with tears spilling over his eyes and Jeonghan looks down at his own hands holding Jisoo’s, but Jisoo’s pulling against him and trying to literally tear himself free. “- please, don’t hurt me, I don’t know who you are, I don’t think you have the right person, p-please!”

  
  


Oh. 

 

That’s. 

  
  


That’s not right. 

  
  
  


Jisoo’s still pulling against him. 

  
  


Someone rips Jeonghan off of him. 

  
  


That’s not right. 

  
  
  
  


This isn’t right. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOP IM BACK!!!  
> i just neeeeeded to update before the holidays and i hope i get a bunch of writing done this month! gotta love college breaks, am i right? do you guys have any plans for your breaks? do you even have breaks? 
> 
> okok i swear im gonna be updating much more frequently now that im adjusted to this year, but im so thankful to everyone who continues to read and support this work. i love you all so much! 
> 
> merry crhistamaasas and happy holidays !!!


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